


TBDH Snippet Treasury

by Scioneeris



Series: There Be Dragons, Harry [24]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, Drabbles, Every Chapter is Different, F/F, F/M, Family, Fluff, Gen, Holiday themed fics, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Sweetness, prompt fills, soft fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:22:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21542173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scioneeris/pseuds/Scioneeris
Summary: All TBDH Snippets/holiday ficlets from here onward, for easier access. Most are prompt-fills, pairings will vary. HarryxTheo, HarryxTheoxCharlie, HarryxOMC's, etc. Some fluff, angst, and romance.
Relationships: Harry/Original Male Character(s), Theodore Nott/Harry Potter, Theodore Nott/Harry Potter/Charlie Weasley, Theodore Nott/Harry Potter/Charlie Weasley/Original Male Character(s)
Series: There Be Dragons, Harry [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/27052
Comments: 42
Kudos: 184





	1. 2019 Halloween Snippet - A Banishing Light

**Author's Note:**

> Posted version
> 
> Summary:
> 
> Set in the There Be Dragons, Harry Universe, this snippet is the 2019 Halloween/holiday piece, featuring a bit of a BAMF!Harry, when he realizes that certain schemes are going sideways. 
> 
> Pairings:
> 
> Harry Potter x Harry's Bonded
> 
> Disclaimer:
> 
> I do not own any Harry Potter anything. That belongs to J.K. Rowling. I just like playing with Harry in my own little world of storyville. I make no money by writing this fanfiction. All original characters are my own.
> 
> WARNINGS: OC's. OOCness. TBDH Universe. AU. Blood, mentions of Death, Gheyo-dynamics/Hadrian/Wikhn being idiots with each other. Other warnings may be added, if needed.
> 
> A/N: Hi guys! Special thanks to Calmzone1 for the suggestion to have a master-fic to file all the snippets under, for easier access, so all new snippets for TBDH, will be posted on here, with the exception of the Christmas Fics that are multi-chaps. I also *may* be working to get chapter 108 done for Christmas, so send me good writing mojo ~Thanks for reading! -Scion
> 
> If you have a prompt you'd like me to try, feel free to mention it. I can't promise to get to it right away, but if the muse strikes, you may get lucky.

Blood. Fresh blood.

The scent hits Harry with a heavy sourness that he doesn't expect. He chokes, grimacing as the stench grows worse. A hand goes to his mouth, a spell for a scent charm, comes next. That isn't what he'd expects to interrupt his relaxing evening.

But that scent…he knows it. Knows it in the same way that he can pick his Bonded out of a line-up by scraps of their shadows. There's something wrong here, and it sets his fangs on edge. The slightest inkling of worry creeps in.

Something tells him that it's Theo, though he can't feel any life-threatening concerns through their bond. Theo is—alright, but mostly muted. Harry squirms. He doesn't know what it is, but he feels it in his bones. The scents grow stronger and now, Harry sits up his attention refocusing.

With the obvious tinge of blood in the air, he knows he's right—it _is_ Theo.

"Ethan? Fred?" he calls out, rising from the lounge and making his way through the sitting room. There is no immediate sense of danger, but he knows that they will feel his worry now. "George?"

His Pareya were there only minutes ago and now, they're nowhere to be seen. Absently, Harry rubs his arms, fingers skimming over his Claim marks out of habit. There's muted feedback still, but nothing definite that he could pinpoint.

"Charlie?" he calls next, feeling his Beta's bond flare with concern. There's a sharpness on the edge of that spike of surprise and he doesn't like it.

The last time something like this had happened, the ghostly events left him frustrated and cranky for the remainder of the month. Well, mostly due to the headache that had followed the ghost, but that was beside the point. There were some things that would never change, simply because of what they were and who he was.

Namely, it's Halloween.

That same dreaded day where some strange misfortune always finds him. It's lessened over the years. The past few have been almost tolerable. More so since old Voldysnort was gone, but some days, Harry wishes he could have _all_ of the peace and quiet.

Just for one year, really. He wouldn't complain too much after that. He tries to stay quiet and minding his own business, every year, but that never works out. Sometimes, it doesn't seem worth the hassle of pretending everything's alright.

Maybe he should just try to screw something up on purpose, because then, at least, he'll know what he's up against.

A quick gathering spell checks the entire house, confirming that there were no otherworldly entities within Emerald Hollow. That's good. Harry's magic practically purrs as he let it twine around him and the walls, as he walks from the sitting room and towards the front of the manor. He pulls gently on a each of the bonds that hasn't reacted outright to his slight burst of fright.

He's alright, but he wants his Bonded near. At least, until he's settled again.

"Harry, what's going on?" It's Alec, his prickly Merrow, scowling as he melts out of the shadows, his face fixed in a permanent frown. He wrinkles his delicate nose, looking as if he'd like to say something about the smell, before his brain seems to catch up to his mouth.

"Alec-" Harry reaches for him, even as a deep shudder runs up his spine. He wants Theo now, but Alec will do until he's sure that everyone is alright. He can definitely pinpoint that his Bonded are tempering their bonds, blocking the emotional feedback, so as not to worry him.

Alec growls, drawing him closer and keeping him there, with an arm around his waist. "Theo's," he says, shortly. "Move."

Harry shuffles forward at Alec's guiding hands. He's guessing, but he knows Theo's scent as well as Theo knows his. There's no mistaking that Theo's blood is partially the source of the smell, but something else is happening.

Something darker, lurking and teasing at the corners. It's as if there's eyes on him. Watching, waiting, _lurking_. He doesn't like it.

"Alec…"

"It's outside," Alec says, stiffly. "Can't reach you in here."

And Harry loves him for that. Knowing what he wants to ask and answering his question in a way that soothes the uncomfortable ache in his stomach, as his empathy begins to reach out around him.

"What is it?"

The Merrow darkens, pale blue skin, shifting to a darker, nearly navy hue. His teal hair seems to be turning black at the tips. "Something ugly," Alec says, at last. "Something dead."

Harry only nods. That's enough to work on, if he needs to. He stops at the front receiving room of the manor and traces the threads of magic that are seeping out of it. It seems that his entire Circle is on the other side of the door.

Alec shuffles closer, waiting. There's a few layered barriers over this point and it's obvious that they're active, from the visible flickers of gold and green magic glowing at the corners.

Harry steps through the sound barrier, feeling the thin film of magic snap around him. Sound rushes at him from all sides and it takes a few minutes to be oriented with what's happening. He hears shouts and yells—the Twins and Ethan—barking at each other, calling for all sorts of healing things.

Quinn, of course, is in the middle of it. Ethan is being his voice. No one looks up at Harry's entrance. They're too busy with what's sprawled out on the ground between them.

"Theo-!" Harry gasps—and he rushes forward.

Alec keeps up with him easily, grabbing Harry around the shoulders before he can interrupt Quinn's work. It's definitely Theo and he's in terrible shape.

Supported heavily by Wikhn and Hadrian, a grim, bloodied Theo coughs and spits mouthfuls of dark blood on the pure white floor.

Standing two feet in front of him, Quinn, rapidly chain-casts a series of antidote and deep-tissue repair spells, while Ethan and the others rush to bring him the healing tonics and powders requested. His eyes glow a bright, brilliant teal and his magic is liberally spread around the room, some strands even boring straight through the floor, to reach the Earth.

"It's not all his," Hadrian says, heavily. "Calm yourself, Harry." He winces, even as he speaks, as if he knows that's the wrong thing to say.

"Calm?" Harry snarls. He wrenches free of Alec's grip, unable to ignore the fact that Alec barely tried to hold him at all. In fact, there's a definite chill to the Merrow, now that they've broken through the soundproofed barrier.

He's never seen Alec truly furious and he doesn't want to. Not now. Not tonight. There's different magics at play and tonight—is bad.

"Calm down," Wikhn says, sternly. His eyes were so close to pitch-black, it's the only reason that excuses the way he's curled in on himself. "Panicking now will only cause problems. Stay out of Quinn's way. Let him work."

Logically, Harry knows this, but instinctively, he hates the unofficial reprimand. Wikhn's not tempering his voice and it sounds like a scolding. A low rumble builds in his throat, because there's nothing wrong about _worrying_.

Ethan eases Theo to the ground, taking over from Wikhn and Hadrian. His gold eyes flux a deeper and darker brown, but he's just as close to the edge as the rest of them. He's barely keeping from blurting out the questions hang overhead.

"A bit harsh, don't you think?" Charlie says, mildly. His sense of agitation is visible in his flaming ponytail. It's five different shades of crimson, instead of his normal, cheerful flames. "Hadrian—what happened? I thought you said it was under control."

"It was under control," Hadrian says, tightly. He holds out an arm to Wikhn, looking as if he could keel over right there, if his shadows weren't clustering around him, keeping him upright. "Come on."

"This isn't under control," Charlie growls. "Hadrian!"

"And he'll live and you can shut up for five seconds," Hadrian snapped. Shadows peeled off of him, swirling around the floor. "You have no idea what that was and I don't want to think about it right now. Wikhn!"

Wikhn glares at him, rebelliously. Even as tremors overtook him, he made no move to draw closer at the obvious invitation.

Hadrian snarls and stalks forward. He grabs Wikhn by the neck with one, massive, clawed hand, dragging him forward on tip-toe. "When I tell you to come, I expect you to move," he growls, leaning in to make his point. "Do you want to lose control here? In front of Harry? Theo? They're not in any condition to handle you!"

Wikhn's answer is an angry hiss, the last slivers of red giving way to a deathly blackened gaze. "I am not your blade to command!"

"Damn right, you aren't. But you are my King when you choose to be and five minutes ago, you chose. Deal with it." He yanked Wikhn's head back with one tight-fisted hand in his inky hair, keeping his neck bared for a sharp, savage bite.

Fred, George and Ethan all hiss and growl in tandem. They don't care for the aggressive display and especially not so close to Theo in his weakened state. Quinn carefully avoids eye contact, crouching beside Theo and channeling more of his healing energy into him in slow, deliberate measures.

The room chills. Alec's displeasure sweeping through it like an icy torrent, bent on complete destruction.

It's enough to drag Harry's screaming instincts to their senses. He feels both of them through their respective bonds and the undercurrent of pain, makes his heart hurt. He doesn't need to know how their dynamics work right now, but he wants answers.

He needs to know what's happened and what they'll be doing about it. "Hadrian—Wikhn," he tries. "Please. Not now. Don't—hurt him."

"I don't think he'd let him, if he didn't want it," Alec says, annoyed. But his eyes had gone several shades of blue-green-purple and his scales were now on full-display and darkened beyond its usual bright hues. "Though I'd just as soon _not_ witness it."

Hadrian releases Wikhn with a low, rumbling growl in his throat. His eyes are alight with dark delight and his reaper signs begin to show along his arms, revealed by way of his ruined arm guards.

Wikhn licked his lips and leaned forward. The flat-palm to Hadrian's chin, threw his head back, while a bit of Fae magic kept Hadrian right where Wikhn wanted him. It was only seconds before his fangs were sharply embedded in Hadrian's neck, with a loud, contented purr, filling the room.

The rest of their Bonded shuffle uncomfortably. They all want answers and this is taking too long.

Alec snorts. "If you're done being disgusting and annoying, would one of you please tell us what's going on?"

Quinn sighs, drawing their attention.

Theo is unconscious now, thankfully, for the long threads of magic that continue to knit and repair the extensive damage to his body. Charlie now sits on the floor with Theo's head cradled in his lap. There's a definite furrow in his brow and the Twins are now flanking him.

Harry rubs his face. "Charlie?" He prompts, edging closer. The tension in the room has settled, now that Hadrian and Wikhn are alright and Quinn can focus again.

Alec draws him back with an arm around his shoulder. "Give him space," he grumbles, eyeing Quinn. "Don't crowd."

Harry pats Alec's hand, appreciating the gesture, even if it _is_ really hard to stay there and not rush straight to Theo's side. He can see that the Twins and Charlie are channeling warmth into Theo, on top of Quinn's healing.

"He was checking something," Charlie says, slowly. "He only told me he had a favor he wanted to check on. He didn't say who it was or why, just that he needed to be sure of something."

"And you let him go alone?" Ethan asks, glancing between Charlie and the growling, purring couple of Hadrian and Wikhn. "Correction—did he tell you to let him go alone?"

Hadrian patted Wikhn's shoulders, then settled for rubbing up and down Wikhn's half-scarred sides with slow hands. "Wik—need to talk to them," he says, hoarsely.

Wikhn snuffles, but withdraws, his eyes bright red, his expression a tad manic. "He told us to be on standby," he says, snuggling into Hadrian's arms and somehow, still looking rather dangerous. "We were on standby. We're always on standby. We stood and-"

"And he said he had it under control," Hadrian says, darkly. "If he wasn't half-dead, I'd have my fangs in him instead of Wikhn.." He nuzzles the top of Wikhn's head, wrapping his arms securely around him. "We were trawling around the Shadow Territories, near the edges. He went to visit someone—or something—in that house down by the river on the bank. The one with the blue stone for a doorbell."

Harry freezes. "He _what_?"

All of his Bonded turned to look at him. It's Charlie that breaks the awkward silence. "Anything you want to share, Harry?" Fred and George nudge each other, eyes bright with curiosity.

Harry offers a weak smile. He isn't sure he wants to share this secret just yet, but he might have to. "I just—it's an innocent question. W-what was he doing all the way down there?"

"That's what I couldn't figure out," Hadrian admits. "We really had no business at that corner of the water's edge," his dark eyes flick to Alec's scowling figure behind Harry. "No offense, of course."

Alec rolls his eyes in answer. "He has no business being there, because of what you are and you should know that better than all the rest!"

"Reaper business," Wikhn translates, mirroring Alec's annoyed expression. "They store souls over there. It's a metaphor for the River Styx and all of that." He leans harder into Hadrian, nibbling on his lower lip. "What I don't understand is why Harry knows that."

Harry winces. He had managed to walk right into that. "If I say it's a lucky guess-"

"Then I'd call you a liar," Ethan says, calmly. He taps his own cheek in warning. "I can feel that. Try again, Harry."

A helpless groan escapes and Harry slides down to the floor. He barely notices when Alec eases down to float beside him—because naturally, the Merrow couldn't actually _sit_ on the floor, like the rest of them.

"Harry?" Charlie prompts.

"I saw it when I was flying figure eights a couple months ago. It feels like Hadrian so..." Harry shrugs. "I don't know how to explain that, I just meant that-"

"You're right," Hadrian says. "It is a temporary holding spot. A Soulstop, if you would. Most wouldn't know that or recognize it, because most aren't exposed to-"

"To Death and bonded to a Grim Reaper," Harry says, sighing. "I know. I just—I didn't do it on purpose."

"Of course you didn't," George says, loyally. "Did he, Forge?"

"Course not, Gred," Fred says, nudging him back. "Kiss him, sourfish."

Alec hisses in answer, but hugs Harry from behind. "It is fortunate you didn't investigate. There are things there that should never come into contact with you. Your empathy wouldn't be able to handle it."

Harry winces. He can't say that he was close enough to figure it out on his own. Alec will kill him—after he's done hugging him, of course.

"Harry?" Alec squeezes him. He's picked up on Harry's reluctance.

"Can I just say upfront that I didn't know this would happen?"

Collectively, his Bonded groans.

"Harry!" Charlie says, exasperated.

Harry tries to grin, but it's hard. He's only staring at Theo's solemn, sleeping face and it's making him remember things. "See, my empathy's fine. I know how to block better than I used to and it's gotten much better lately."

Wikhn groans. "I told you!" He slaps Hadrian's chest with one flat palm. "I told you he did, but no, you didn't believe me. You didn't believe _me_ , the one who was standing right there beside you when-"

Hadrian kisses Wikhn to shut him up. Surprisingly, it works. Wikhn's expression grows softer now, and Hadrian's shadows calm themselves.

Alec rolls his eyes again, but leans forward at a silent prompt from Quinn, offering one blue sparking vial.

The pre-drawn Merrow Blood brings Theo around in a hurry, much to everyone's relief. It supercharges Quinn's healing spells and Theo's vitals began to steady. It's a matter of minutes, before the healing is complete.

Theo lurches upright, his hair wild and half-singed, his entire body radiating pure panic. "Harry-!" he cries, lurching halfway out of Charlie's lap and through Ethan's protesting hands. "Your—!"

Harry sighs. "Where is he?"

Theo nearly pouts. "Outside. Property's still warded. I couldn't—I'm fine, Harry. I swear I am."

Harry doesn't call him out on the lie, but he's not happy and he's sure it shows.

Charlie glances between them. "Do you want to fill me in or is my lecture you're avoiding now?" To his surprise, both Theo and Harry wince. "Mine? Huh. That's a first."

Fred and George light up at once. "Har-ry," they chorus. "Is it-"

Harry shakes his head. "Yes, it's Sirius. You can let him through the wards— _but_ -!" He holds up a hand. "Only after we get Theo upstairs and in bed."

"I'm fine," Theo says, quickly. "Completely fine. No need to fuss over—OW!" He shoots Charlie an injured look. "I didn't go looking for him!"

"Of course you didn't," Charlie says, mildly. "Especially since you two hate each other. Why would you _ever_ go out looking for him?"

Harry clears his throat, a smile teases at the corners of his mouth. "Thanks for finding him, Theo," he says, earnestly. "I didn't know if he'd come this year or-"

"He's come every year since we've figured out that it breaks your bad luck streak," Ethan says, wearily. "And you two—no pranks in Quinn's kitchen!"

Quinn grins, relieved. He helps Theo up with Charlie, the two of them balancing the slightly dizzy Theo between them.

"You can ask him," Theo says, wearily. "He can—explain. I just—ow."

Quinn frowns. He pats at Theo's sides, then shakes his head.

"Upstairs bath?" Charlie guesses.

"He can use my healing salts," Alec says, abruptly. He pulls Harry up to stand beside him. "And my bathing rooms," he said, quieter. "And I don't want to see your ghostly—godfather for any-"

"You don't have to," Harry says, calmly. He kisses Alec's cool cheek. "He doesn't care if you're there or not, so you don't have to visit. Thanks for volunteering your precious bath salts." He's relieved to have figured out most of what's happened and now, there's just the matter of what to do about it.

"They aren't precious-!" Alec starts to say, before he throws his hands up.

Harry watches Alec flounce off, admiring the view from behind—especially the way his charmed hair skims right over his delectable—his view is interrupted by an annoyed Ethan. "What?"

"Harry!" Ethan grumbles. "Are you listening? Do you want to go and greet him before he sets something on fire again? Or would you rather-"

"I'll go," Harry says, grinning. "If I don't, he'll try to come and find me. You just get Theo settled."

"He won't settle until you spend a few minutes with him-"

"I know, I know," Harry says, waving him off. "But he brought Sirius here for me and it is Halloween night. I should at least say hello." He skips off to the tune of Ethan's half-hearted growl.

Why Theo and Sirius didn't get along, he'll never know. There are some things that he's probably better off not knowing. There's one side of him that suggests it'ss a pureblooded wizard thing, but then he's seen the way that Theo's eyes had gone dark brown—not black—but a definite dark brown, the first time Sirius had made the connection between Harry and his handsome Circle.

A smirk surfaces. As much as he loves Sirius—and really, he does—sometimes, a few pranks never hurt. He loves Theo and his Circle, dearly. Never will change that, no matter what Sirius says and the sooner they'd have that out of the way, the sooner things can return to their usual chaotic normal.

Harry trots out into the front yard to see George and Fred happily chattering away with an impatiently floating, semi-visible Sirius. He waves, the moment Sirius sees him and tries to rush the barrier. A laugh escapes when Sirius crashes into the invisible barrier and bounces back like a bubble.

"Har-ry!" Sirius gestures wildly to the ward and pantomimes hugging him across the courtyard.

"Sirius," Harry says, grinning as he join them. "Stand back."

"Need help?" The Twins ask, flanking him out of habit.

"Got it," Harry says. His magic gently twines around the bits and pieces of the protective wards keeping Emerald Hollow safe from the rest of the realms and some of Nevarah's ever-present Fabrine. "Ah—wait, Sirius. Rules!"

Sirius groans. Loudly. "Harry. Har-ry. What rules? We don't need rules-"

"The rules, Sirius," Harry says, in mock sternness. "You know the rules."

"No pranks in the kitchen. No going near the water—stuff." Sirius pretended to think.

Harry perked a brow.

Sirius gave an exaggerated sigh. "And no frighting your snakey little boyfriend." He frowned. "Or husband. Or whatever that wimp-"

"That wimp saved you from a Class Nine Banishing Light?" Harry says, knowingly. Because he knows how dangerous those are. He also knows the odd smell it will leave, when it burns through blood that is more shadow-than-light magic.

The Twins twist around to stare at him. "Theo?" Fred says.

"Class Nine?" George says in dismay. "That's what left him like that?"

But Harry's not finished yet. There's a faintly scolding tone as he continues. "I'd bet he also smuggled you through the hounds and the exorcists guarding the river? That same wimp?"

Sirius droops. He really can't joke about this, because it is far more serious than last year and he doesn't want Harry to worry. "You had to take all the fun out of it."

"When he's bleeding out on the floor, yes," Harry says, tartly. "I mind. I like him in one piece. One very delectable piece of-"

"Don't!" Sirius sticks his ghostly fingers in his ears. "I can't hear you. La la la la-"

Harry sniggers. Just seeing Sirius has eased a little bit of his worry and he's glad that he's alright. "Really?"

The Twins high-five behind Harry as the wards come down, allowing Sirius to enter the property. They immediately start recasting and strengthening the magic once he's through.

"Really," Sirius says, warmly. He floats down, hugging Harry as best as his ghostly form would allow. "Look at you—a whole year, eh? Looks good on you." He tries to pat Harry's shoulder, but his hand is stuck halfway in Harry's shoulder, before his entire form wavers.

"You look—the same," Harry says. His fingers skim over the strange coldness that is Sirius' current form. "What happened? You've never had trouble breaching the river this time of year."

Sirius scowls. "I don't know, but I don't like it," he says, huffing. "Something came out of nowhere. Nearly swallowed me whole. That little wimp of yours—that _Theo_ of yours, stopped it. I don't know how or why, but he did."

"Because he knows you're important to me," Harry says, simply. "I told you that you're judging him the wrong way. Not my fault that you don't want to pay attention to his good points."

Sirius grimaces. "I know he has them," he says, reluctantly. "I'd just rather not _see_ them yet, alright?"

Harry grins his head. "Your loss," he says. "How's Mum and Dad? Remus and Tonks? I thought they might come this year."

"They're fine. Everyone's fine. Remus says thanks for taking in Teddy, James and Lily said hi. Lily wants to be in your Holiday picture, so make sure you put out the right kind of mirror and your Dad says he liked that last prank. They're sorry they couldn't cross over this time, but-"

"But there's something different in the realm borders than last year," Harry says, quietly. "I figured."

"Stuck with me," Sirius says, trying for levity and only halfway reaching it. "What've you been up to?"

"The usual. Getting into trouble. Then getting out of it."

"Lots of trouble," George says, grinning. He strolls over to rejoin them, hands shoved in his pockets, hair flaming a bright, cheerful yellow. "Wards are up again. They kind of didn't want to reconnect. You don't suppose something followed Theo home?"

Harry doesn't want to think of that, but before he can answer, Fred jogs over, looking just as worried as George is.

"So much trouble," Fred says. His eyes glow a bright, searing red. "Harry—hate to be the bearer of bad news, but—you sense anything out there? I can't see it, but I'm sure it's there."

"How sure?" George asks.

Fred shrugs. "I'm very sure of it."

Harry squints into the dark. He can feel the large, empty void of shadows, just out of reach and not quite within Nevarah's astral plane. He sighs. He'd hoped it wasn't anything big, but he knows better. After all, Theo can fight and will definitely leave a path of destruction in his wake, when the circumstances call for it.

Sirius floats a little higher, shading his eyes with his hands as if that will help. "I don't see anything obvious from here."

Harry smiles, sadly. "Yeah. There's something out there. It's everything and nothing right now. Just existing. Light. Dark. All of that."

Sirius drifts down to float beside him, his expression kind. "That's normal then. Let's go inside, so you don't have to look at it, eh?"

"Inside's good," Harry says, linking arms with George. "Hey, Sirius?"

"Harry?"

"It's good to see you again."

Sirius finally smiles. "Always good to see you, Harry."

* * *

Harry loves seeing Sirius, especially since Nevarah allows Sirius to visit for the entire day. It's a chance to catch up on important things with important people and he's always grateful for it.

Eventually, he leaves the Twins to continue updating and entertaining his godfather when Ethan appears in the doorway of the sitting room, one eyebrow arched in a silence question.

"Be right back," Harry says, apologetically. "Don't scare up anything without me." It's meant to be a joke and it works—the Twins groan, loudly.

"Har-ry!" they call after him.

But he's already left, silently laughing to himself as he follows Ethan down the halls and towards the Merrow portion of the house. He's relieved that Alec allows Theo to recuperate here in relative peace and quiet.

It's always a surprise to see that Alec, with his strong personality, can get along with Theo. There's virtually never any arguments or disagreements with the occasional muttered exclamation from both sides to the tune of 'you said you did _what_?'

So Harry's expecting something when Ethan leads him into the bathroom.

He isn't prepared to see Theo sitting in a dry tub, hugging his knees to his chest, eyes vacant and still half-hazel, rather than gold. Theo looks worse now, up here, alone.

Ethan gives a slight shake of his head, gesturing to the tub. "He won't let me near him and he wouldn't respond. Alec filled the tub twice and he banished the water, so now Alec's off sulking while Theo is—well."

"In shock?" Harry guesses. He approaches the tub, taking care to make some noise so Theo will know he was there. "Theo..."

There's no answer.

"I think it was more than a Banishing Light that did this," Ethan said, unhappily. He perched on the closed toilet lid, while Harry knelt beside the bathtub. "Water's charmed to be as hot as he wants or as cold as he likes, but it feels freezing to me no matter way I've tried to spell it."

"The-o," Harry murmurs, leaning against the tub's broad edge to try and gain his Alpha's attention. The lack of reaction is worrisome, but Harry feels that Theo is there.

Faintly, but still present. He's hiding inside of himself though and Harry doesn't like that. It doesn't suit the Theo that he knows. He wants that silence gone, if only to know that Theo is alright, because Theo would never lie to him.

Not about this.

Picking up the showerhead, Harry turns the taps until the water feels warm to him. "It can't feel good covered in blood," he says, softly. "So I'll just warm you up, alright? Get some of it off of you. Let it wash away. It doesn't smell like yours. I'm glad it isn't."

Theo only turns his face to the warm spray of water that trickles over him in steady dribbles. He allows Harry to scrub him down, banishing his clothes one piece at a time, until he can verify that Theo is alright—and that there's no hidden wounds on scale or skin.

Harry's wet hands slick over half-scaled skin. Dark brown scales with only the barest hint of gold to them. Theo watches him, silently, with eyes that ask all sorts of unspoken questions. Things he won't ask, answers he doesn't want.

It's just them. Coming down from the adrenaline high. Processing the crazy emotional rush that accompanied it. Realizing that maybe, somethings weren't all that they seem. Sitting in the tub, frozen.

But Harry cares about more than that. Things that are deeper than the surface. He is patient as he drizzles softly scented shower gel over Theo's thin shoulders. It never fails to amaze him of the strength that his Alpha hides beneath such a slender frame.

They call him the Little Alpha for a reason. To Harry, he's so much more than that and in moments like this, he wishes he could shower him with every bit of affection that he holds in his heart. Everything that he has to offer, so that Theo knows how much he is wanted, treasured and cherished.

Theo. His Theo.

It must've cost him dearly to venture out that far. Though the more Harry thinks of it, he doesn't like what his mind is coming up with. Theo is methodical and precise. He likes to think things through and Harry likes to watch him think.

Especially when he can help with those thoughts in very _special_ ways. Harry ducks his head, feeling his cheeks heat. Now is not the time to be thinking of that last brainstorming session that had very little to do with actual scheming and a lot to do with the rug in front of the fireplace in Theo's office.

He likes that rug. Theo likes him on that rug. It's amazing, the way that they fit together, Harry thinks. So when his mind tells him what Theo hasn't, but his empathy can read, Harry is—understandably, upset.

Someone has manipulated his Theo into something awful. While he's grateful that Sirius still exists in his current form and that Theo is always able to wrangle his way out of difficult situations, Harry likes it when he doesn't _have_ to.

Harry hums very softly as he swirls the frothy lather along Theo's body, taking care to rub gently at the points where the blood clings to scale. If Theo minds or notices, he gives no indication at all. He merely sits there, allowing Harry to raise his arms and lather him up, then rinse him down.

Sometimes, these moments of silent intimacy carry more emotion than weeks of lavish indulgence. It feeds the softly shimmering threads of Harry's empathy and he does his best to mirror it back to the one who always makes him feel treasured.

"The-o," he murmurs, when he's through. "I want you to be alright."

There is only a faint smile, vaguely humoring, from Theo's solemn face. The only dash of emotion that's visible after all this time.

"M'fine, Harry."

"You're thinking too hard," Harry says. He presses a kiss to Theo's damp cheek. "Is it so serious you can't even tell me? Or are you just that frustrated with yourself?"

And there it is, a soft, gentle sigh. Theo slumps in the tub, his head tipping back to rest on the edge. His eyes are half-closed. "I should've seen that coming," he says, at last. "I knew they were targeting us, but I missed something and-"

Harry frowns. He can usually follow most of Theo's abstract strategies, but sometimes, his clever Alpha thinks in too many directions at once and Harry finds his brain tied up in knots when he isn't sure which one of their many enemies they're supposed to be sparring with this week.

"Which part?" he asks. "The Blight or Sirius? Thank you for saving him, by the way. I know he's not your favorite."

"You are my only favorite," Theo murmurs, a smile teasing at the corners of his mouth. Harry's careful attentions have soothed a raw edge inside of him and he can find his voice, if only for a little while. "I can only have one."

Harry rests his head on the edge of the tub. "And you are mine," he says, easily. The thought registers and he speaks without truly sorting through the muddle in his mind. "What were you doing down there, anyway?"

Silence is Theo's answer. An Alpha has their pride after all, and this is one of those times.

Harry sifts through the possible answers and makes a soft sound in his throat when he realizes there is one very specific possibility that he'd automatically overlooked in his early musings. As much as Theo would make allowances for Sirius, this is one more thing he would absolutely overextend himself for.

The one thing he, himself, does not have.

Harry barely trusts himself to speak clearly, because the rush of emotions tangling up inside of him, threaten to turn dark and ugly. He would hurt things for hurting his Theo. His Circle. His entire heart and _soul._

"Theo—did someone try to banish my parents?"

Beneath the clear, warm water, Theo's shifts entirely to half brown, half golden scales. He protects himself, even when he doesn't need to. He can't help reading what Harry isn't saying outright and it's a testament to how synchronized they are with each other, that Harry says nothing and Theo answers without speaking.

It's a tap on Theo's shoulder and the barest, faintest press of Theo's cheek to Harry's hand. The moment freezes right then, the understanding passing through them as the kind of silent conversation that happens, isn't something that requires words.

Too soon, the moment is over. Harry's breaths return to normal and Theo tilts his head back to rest on the edge of the tub, staring up at the blank ceiling. The expressionless mask is back, along with the darkening of his scales. Theo is nearly more brown than gold at this point and it's all purely self-defense. He's remembering things that he won't share aloud. Maybe never.

Harry manages to keep his voice even and controlled, even though it makes his heart hurt to see that automatic reflex. "Next time call for help," he pleads. "Please? You know we would come."

"Who would come?" Theo asks, sharply. "Hadrian, who answers Death? Wikhn, who only answers you? The rest of our suite who is stretched thin and overworked by circumstances I can't control? Harry, there is no one left to come-"

"Shhhh," Harry soothes. He kisses Theo's forehead and shushes him with a finger to his lips. "They would still try. We would still try. Maybe there is something. I don't know. I was only asking. I don't like to see you like this and I don't know how to help."

The tension is gone with those earnest words.

And Theo sighs again. "You do more than you could ever know, my treasure. So much more. I wish you would see yourself through my eyes."

"With your sparkles and rose-colored everything?" Harry snorts. "No, thank you."

The playful tone works and Theo smiles. He settles into the warm water and doesn't protest in the slightest when Harry strips and eases into the tub with him. This washing ritual may have a few Gheyo hints to it, but it is all theirs.

* * *

When he's seen Theo safely tucked into bed, with Quinn for a cuddle partner, Harry is finally reassured enough to rejoin Sirius and the others in the main sitting room. His presence reassures the rest of his Bonded and that alone, stirs something else.

A strong, protective urge. An instinct that Harry works hard to keep carefully controlled. His magic is strong on its own and his Empathy makes it a hundred times more powerful. If he isn't careful, terrible things can happen.

Great power. Terrible power. Enormous responsibility. Harry cracks his knuckles, slowly. Theo's confirmation did not ease the gently simmering temper he's always kept carefully buried. He will have to remember to only let a little bit of it out.

Just a little bit.

It is Halloween Night, after all, and they have permission slips for the kinds of things he wants to be doing.

"Harry?" Sirius floats onto the cushion on the lounge beside him. "You're thinking awfully hard there."

"Just thinking, Sirius," Harry says, his smile a bit sharp. "How did Theo find you? Did you call for someone?"

Sirius flickers half-blue, half-silvery-white. There is a contemplative expression on his face and finally, he floats in front of Harry, his dark eyes quite serious. "You know that we cannot control when we manifest into your realm and how we will arrive?"

"Yes."

"Your parents left a full cycle before I did, but upon arrival, I could not sense them anywhere. I followed a trail that led to James—all the way to the Purging River. There was someone—something—delivering souls across the waters."

"And you went after them alone?" Harry says. It's hard to hide his exasperation and he knows that Sirius can see it.

And there's that familiar, pained expression on his godfather's face. "Harry, I didn't want to, but I couldn't help it. There was no time."

"There's always time, Sirius! Suppose something happened to you—again. All of you! I've only just barely seen you all more than a handful of times. If you disappeared—if this—everything, disappeared, I couldn't stand it. I can't lose you again!"

"Oh, Harry." There's regret in his face as Sirius floats closer. His ghostly hand brushes over Harry's cheek. "I am so sorry I wasn't there for you. I know there's no excuses or explanations for the way our parting was, but you have to know it wasn't on purpose. I didn't want to leave you like that or-"

Harry twitched, faintly, under the ghostly coolness of the hands patting his head. "How did Theo get mixed up in this? Wasn't he just passing by?"

"...yes."

The lie, when it comes, doesn't quite hurt. Harry can't figure if Sirius is protecting him or Theo, but the gesture, though is only somewhat appreciated.

"And he helped you?" Harry's eyes narrow faintly, green finger flickering at the corners.

"He helped your mother," Sirius says, flatly. "She asked him to help the rest of us—your father included."

Harry's not surprised at that admission. Theo has a soft spot for mothers. Especially any motherly figure in Harry's life. Of _course_ he'd react to Lily Potter being in danger—whether she was fully corporeal or not.

It's then that the rest of Sirius' words register. "You said you had no choice?"

Now, Sirius balks. He'd meant to cover that slip of the tongue, but it's a little too late. "Harry, don't take it that way. Harry-"

"What way? There is order in everything. That's how Death likes it."

"Harry!" Sirius can't keep the fearful sharpness from his voice. He knows what Harry is going to do and already knows that he can't do anything about it. "Don't risk it. Don't risk all of this! You have everything that you need and-"

"I had peace for a little while," Harry says, calmly. "It was very nice. I'm glad you were able to come and visit, Sirius."

"What? Harry? Harry, where are you going?"

"Nowhere," Harry says, lightly. Too lightly. He's finally made a few connections of his own and now Theo's incomplete explanation is making a little bit of sense. "It's just that I promised I'd stay out of it—as long as they left us out of it. This is not leaving us out of it."

Harry!"

"You can help if you like, Sirius. Keep an eye out for me, please?"

"Harry James Potter!"

"It's Nott, you know. Harry James Gorgens-Nott." The smile on Harry's face is far too cold to add any warmth to the first freezing swirl of icy magic that blossoms beneath his feet.

There is righteous anger coursing through his veins and he'll be damned if he lets it melt and trickle away to nothing. There are _rules,_ for Arielle's sake. A whole library full of the rules that he has to follow.

"What are you going to do? You can't take it on alone!"

"It?" Harry swivels to stare, there's a vaguely calculating look on his face. The way Lily always looked before she charged into battle, headfirst. He's had suspicions and now, Sirius has confirmed them.

Sirius looks stricken. "Don't-" he tries, but there's no strength behind his plea. He knows Harry. Knows him the same way he knew James and Lily. Harry is their son and there are some things that cannot be erased.

Harry's smile is far too bright. "Something you want to share, Sirius? Now's as good as any other time."

"Can't you call one of your-"

"It's late. My Bonded need their rest and I need to work out my frustrations before I take it out on them," Harry says, matter-of-factly. "If you don't want to help, you don't need to. It's alright. I can manage."

"None of this is alright!" Sirius splutters.

But Harry doesn't pay him any mind. They leave the manor and head to the property line. It takes a touch of Air-magic to float a little faster than walking, but Harry uses the moment to sort out how he wants this to happen.

Sirius can't think of a single way to stop Harry's single-minded determination and he doesn't know what else to do in his current form. Reluctantly, he floats along beside Harry, aware that whatever will happen—is going to happen.

Harry feels it then, as the wards reach out to touch him. He's close enough to feel their warmth and protection washing over him. Definitely close enough to see the massive swarm of blackness frothing and fighting overhead.

There isn't an ounce of fear to be found in him. Harry remains calm, cool and collected. He rolls up his sleeves, wand in his teeth, as he buttons the cuffs on his jacket sleeve. Quinn had stenciled some calming runes on his wrist earlier in the day and now, they're helping to store a bit of excess magic.

"Harry!" Sirius pleads. "I can't help you more than-"

Wand back in hand, Harry rolls his shoulders back. His shoulders twitch, his wings shifting restlessly inside of him. His eyes burn the brightest shade of emerald green that they've ever been in some time. "Be my lookout," Harry reminds him. "I trust you Sirius."

And Merlin, those are words that Sirius can't ignore. He huffs, ghostly arms crossed over his chest, as he watches Harry start the first spell. "That's the biggest swarm I've ever seen."

"Fabrine don't cluster like this, unless something is herding them," Harry says, quietly. "That means it's a Rouge Blight. I've listened to Hadrian complain enough to know that's how it works."

"Blights are supposed to be-"

"Pure? Good? Every kind of white magic imaginable?" Harry says, sarcastically. The wards are already unraveling where he's asked. "They're formed from Banishing Lights. You know that. If the light isn't neutral enough, then the intent changes when it evolves."

"Shouldn't you wait for backup or—something's coming," Sirius says, straightening up. "Harry—Harry, this is bigger than-"

"How big?"

"Enormous."

"Great," says Harry, cheerfully. "Just what I need."

When it arrives, The Blackness swallows it whole, turning a once-pure entity into something else entirely. The sky remains dark and thunderous, while flashes of light crackle overhead. A storm without the agony.

Wand drawn, Harry points it to the sky. "Expelliarmus," he murmurs. There's no need to shout, after all. A dark wand with a shiny knob flies out from the cloud of Fabrine, to land at his feet. Harry sighes. "Expecto Patronum!" 

And his magic obeys. There's something pure and unrestrained in the way that his patronus is no longer a stag, but rather—snakes. An entire army of snakes that pour out from the tip of Harry's wand.

They charge upwards, streaking through the sky, wide-fanged mouths swallowing the blackness with each massive gulp. And there's so many of them. Harry's focus is strong and the spell is happy to convey his wishes.

The Fabrine is devoured alive and Harry's patronus remains a Hydra, with ever-growing heads. When everything fades out, there's an angry shriek in the distance.

Harry smirks. He trots through the break in the wards and off the property line. This kind of magic doesn't necessarily need to be tied to him, after all. "I warned you," he says, calmly.

The flailing figure is furious though. He refuses to be silenced in the way he howls his displeasure. "You miserable excuse of a wizard! You'll meet the same sticky end, you _will_ -!"

"Mr. Malfoy, you've been sentenced to work off the debts that prevent you from reaching the next level of your—journey," Harry says, delicately. Because it is quite clear that Lucius Malfoy is very, very dead.

He begged Theo to make the deal, because Draco is something of a friend these days and Mrs. Malfoy had turned out to be quite nice. But there is always drama where the Malfoys are concerned and Harry doesn't like the thought that Lucius had a hand in Theo's current condition.

In fact, it leaves him borderline murderous, really. His wonderful Theo. Harry yawns, hearing his jaw crack. He's trying to decide what's the best way to make his point. A simple erasure would ruin all the time and effort they've put into this rehabilitation program and that doesn't feel good.

"Because of you! My own _son_ won't speak to me. Won't even _look_ at me!"

"Maybe you should've taken Mrs. Malfoy's feelings more seriously," Harry says. He scans the horizon. There's one more layer to this and he wants it all wrapped up soon. He has plans for the evening, after all. "She might've put in a good word for you."

"She's dead!" Lucius shrieked. "Dead like the-"

"Dead means dead," Harry interrupts. There's a hint of darkness in his gaze now. "And the only reason you're not with her is because of what _you've_ done. I spoke on your behalf because Draco begged me to. This redemption is your choice."

"You tricked me!"

"...that's fair," Harry agrees. Though really, it was a very simple question and he didn't think that Lucius Malfoy could be any _stupider_ , but there was really no telling sometimes. "Usually because you've done something stupid or really stupid. Like now. Just because you're dead, doesn't mean I can't touch you."

"You can't!" Lucius snarled. "Your little guardian couldn't either."

And that, was precisely the wrong thing to say.

Harry's wand flashes out and it was a matter of three spells and one darkened growl, before Lucius writhed on the grassy hill behind the manor, waves of wispy green-white energy crackling over him.

"This is my _home_ ," Harry snarls. "These are my _family._ This is my world and Theo is _my Alpha_. I warned you, never to lift your hands against him or any of us, no matter what kind of grudge you think is acceptable to cling to, after all these years."

The ground trembles.

A flicker of fear shoots through Lucius. He's regretting ever listening to that old fool that promised redemption and revenge. "I-it wasn't me!" he blabbers, frantically. "W-wasn't me. Stop. Stop it, Potter-!"

But Harry's burning green eyes hold absolutely no mercy. He tucks his wand behind one ear and gathers magic in his hands. Lucius can't escape the shining light that literally dissolves him into a handful of shimmering stardust.

He shrieks and wails, but just as quickly as he's started his revolt, it's over. Harry is always thorough anyway. It matters little now, how much time he's given to this. It doesn't matter, not when it comes to his Circle.

Harry wipes his hands on his jacket and takes his wand in hand again. This time, he twirls it in one hand on the way up the hill and to the clear, grassy field behind it.

"You'd better come out," he warns the empty field. "If you don't, we'll have to do this the hard way."

"There's no one here," Sirius says. He stares at Harry in awe, half-casting a glance over one shoulder. He followed, even though he didn't know what he'd do to help. "Nice spellwork back there, by the way. Since when do you know banishing magic?"

Harry grins, but the eerie light is still in his eyes. "Thanks, Sirius. Would you take a message back to Charlie for me?"

"Sure!"

It isn't until Sirius is well out of sight, that Harry turns back to the near-empty field. His eyes are still brimming with barely restrained power. He's well and truly riled this time and erasing Lucius hasn't eased the thirst for revenge that burns in his veins.

He's not satisfied-yet. He won't be, until one more thing is taken care of.

"Show yourself, Diablo!" The words are bit off, one at a time.

So faintly, it's almost imagined at first, but then the shimmering lines grow more pronounced and when the hateful Reaper steps out, his gleaming crimson scythe propped on one shoulder, it's clear that he only wants Harry's soul and nothing else.

"We had a deal," Harry says, coolly. "Leave me and mine alone and I'll leave you alone."

"Weak!" Diablo hisses. "Prancing around with your pretty parade of-"

"My Bonded Circle and their families are none of your business," Harry snaps. "We had a deal. You broke it."

"He was a heartsick fool!" Diablo mocks. "Moping over his wife and son! Deserved to be removed from the realms for his whinging and scheming like a pathetic mortal-"

"Just like you?" Harry asks, pleasantly. "Minus the mortal part, of course."

The air stills. Time pauses.

Diablo can't look away from Harry's hypnotizing emerald eyes. The magic there, screams and begs for release. It wants to consume and devour—and Diablo is the only thing it can see within reach.

"You can't-!" Another wretched hiss escapes Diablo's decaying mouth, but it is already too late. "You have no authority here."

Harry shrugs. "I warned you," he says, softly. "This is my property—my home. We don't wage war at our doorstep—and I don't play with lives. I never did."

"You're not a Reaper!" Diablo backs away, his scythe now tightly clutched in his bruised, skeletal hands. "No Reaper can touch me without-"

"I can't," Harry agrees. "But he can." He steps aside, the wicked gleam in his eyes filled with every single scrap of emotion he's struggled to stomach for the past three weeks. All the little bits and pieces of news that add up in the worst way. The truth, really, that solidifies why he's going to see this through.

Diablo bares his teeth.

"Hadrian?" Harry waits.

Behind him, rising from the ground, a veritable thundercloud of wrath and destruction is Hadrian. Death's favored one. The expression on his face is quite murderous, but he only acknowledges Harry with a tip of his head as he glides past.

Eyes burn red, shadows stretch upwards and in a matter of seconds, Hadrian is now the Reaper that he has always been.

Harry tucks his wand back up his sleeve. He's done here, for now. Maybe he'll see if there's anything worth salvaging tomorrow. Maybe casting grounds?

"You can't-!" Diablo snarls. He backs away, his scythe held in front of him. 

But Harry can swear that he's seen the Reaper's hand tremble _._

Hadrian's grim look makes it worse as he approaches, his own scythe swirling to life in his darkened hands. "I can," he says, simply. "Because Harry never asks me for _anything_."

* * *

Harry leaves them to it and makes his way back to the house. He doesn't need to witness what's going to happen. He already knows how it will end. There's an invisible weight that's eased off of his shoulders, now that one less enemy hangs over their head.

Theo will be happy—miffed—but eventually happy. He doesn't like Harry playing with his life like that and if Harry doesn't time things right, he might be in a little bit of trouble.

Just a little bit. But he's better at getting out of it these days and right now, from the sound of things, he's done an excellent job of getting out of it.

A faint smile touches his face as Harry glances over his shoulder. He can see jagged streaks of crimson lightning and flashes of black and white brilliance. The magic filling the air from a fight to the death between two elite Reapers is intoxicating.

He'd like to bask on it for a few minutes, but that seems a little tacky. He'll just have to imagine how lovely it feels. If Hadrian wouldn't mind it so much, he'd watch, just to see his ACE in his element.

Charlie waits for him, at the edge of the porch, his expression stern, but relief lining every angle of his tanned body. "Harry," he breathes, folding him up into a hug tight enough to make his bones creak.

Harry wriggles, experimentally, before giving into the hug. It's not that he wants to be free, but he knows that sometimes a Weasley temper lurks beneath Charlie's worry and he likes to brace himself before any scoldings are handed out. "Charlie," he says, softly.

"That was very risky," Charlie scolds, nuzzling the top of his head. "Don't do it again."

Harry grins up at him. "You're terrible at punishments," he says.

Charlie snorts. "I'll try harder next time." He hugs Harry hard again, renewed relief pulsing through their bond. "You banished Lucius."

"Erased him," Harry says. "Couldn't help it. Sorry."

"He was long overdue." Charlie sighs as his hair finally bursts into flame, frothing around his shoulders. "I know you didn't want to give up on him, but sometimes-"

"I can't save anyone," Harry says, surprised to find that there is no heaviness accompanying those words, this time. He has learned, through the years.

"True and people only change when they want to. You can't force them to change, no matter how much you think they need it. Don't forget to tell Draco before he reads about it in the remembrance columns."

"Alright." Harry snuggles into the embrace, losing himself in the warmth and moment. The feeling that everything is alright again, is enough to undo him. He'd rather wait until things are a little more private than just standing out in their backyard.

"That was fast," Charlie murmurs, staring off into the distance. He makes no move to return to the house and that's how Harry knows he _is_ in trouble.

Not with Charlie or rather, Charlie has given him up to a certain someone.

"Charlie?"

His Beta grins at him, fondly. Much in the same way Theo will humor him, though exasperated. "Not getting off that easy," he says. "In you go. Behave."

Rolling his eyes, Harry slips away and towards the house. He has a pretty good idea of how his evening will be. He's expected that much, after all, even if was tempting to add Charlie to that fantasy for a few minutes.

Hadrian waits at the back door when Harry steps into the manor again. He's displeased and it shows in the sharp slant of his shoulders and the thin line of his mouth.

"Hadrian," Harry greets. He stretches up on tip-toe to kiss his cheek. "Everything's fine. The wards are back to normal."

"And you're in so much trouble," Hadrian growls, snagging him with an arm around the waist and pulling Harry flush to his side. "Put that wand away."

"And if I don't?"

"How much trouble do you want to be in?" Hadrian's growl is a little raspier this time. "Because I'm sure you'd like to actually spend some of your holiday doing things, instead of spending it in my-"

"Hadrian."

"Don't. You said you wouldn't get involved with Diablo again and then Charlie tells me that I need to find you straightaway and to keep as calm as possible."

"You were very calm," Harry says, straight-faced. "Thank you." His cheek earns him a pinch to his unprotected side. "Ow?"

"The only reason Theo isn't here is because he's fast asleep. He'll lose it tomorrow," Hadrian scolds. "What were you thinking?"

"He won't," Harry says, calmly. "I was thinking like Theo. It's hard. Takes a lot of effort." He wriggles a bit to check Hadrian's grip. It's tight. Even if Theo lets him off tomorrow, it seems that Hadrian isn't letting him off tonight.

That's okay. He's kind of looking forward to it.

Alright. Really looking forward to it.

Maybe Charlie will join them after all. It's not like he had other plans anyway.

* * *

"Theo!" Harry chirps, the next morning. He greets his Alpha with an enthusiastic hug and a kiss to match when Theo enters the kitchen the next morning. "Better?" He tries to nuzzle Theo's chin and somewhat succeeds.

Theo laughs as he nuzzles back. "Better. Thank you."

"Theodore," Hadrian growls from the doorway. "Don't encourage him. Do you have any idea what he did last night?"

But it's clear to everyone at a glance that just seeing Harry and knowing that all is well, is everything that Theo needs to be alright. There's a tempered sharpness that's returned, but it's dulled in the way that Theo always is around all of them.

Sirius is long gone now that the Halloween Night has passed. There's been an entire host of Shadow dragels tramping around in the backyard, cataloging and filing reports on the incident. Harry had watched them until Quinn had announced breakfast.

"He took care of a threat to our Circle," Theo says, smirking. "If you feel otherwise about his method and my attention to it, then please take it up with us later. Preferably after breakfast."

"He already took it up with me last night," Harry says, lips halfway into a pout. It was a good night, but he's not above milking it for all he can get.

"Did he, now?" Theo kisses the tip of his nose, amused. "I'm sure he was thoroughly satisfied at the end result."

And of all the things to say, _that_ is what makes Harry's face turn as red as the fruit in Quinn's fresh fruit parfaits.

"Theo!" he protests.

"Yes, my treasure?"

"Not fair!"

"Oh, I'll show you fair..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is NOT TBDH-canon. I wanted to try my hand at writing some Sirius and this was what happened. LOL. I figured if Sirius could be a ghost, then so could James and Lily, but then the snippet got a little out of hand and I had to wrap things up. Sorry for the delay! I originally wrote the first half in past-tense and had to correct it to the present-tense version of the second half, which took FOREVER and a day.
> 
> Thanks for reading! ~Scion


	2. A Headmaster's Burden (Theo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AU TBDH moment with Theo, Fred and Hogwarts at some random point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS: OC's. OOCness. TBDH Universe. AU. Blood, mentions of Death, Gheyo-dynamics/Hadrian/Wikhn being idiots with each other. Other warnings may be added, if needed.
> 
> A/N: Hi guys! I did this on my lunch break, bc of that meme with the Slytherin/Hufflepuff. basically, the Slytherin claims they have no friends and the Hufflepuff says something to the tune of "bold of you to say that within hugging range". So OF COURSE, I thought of our darling Theo. Enjoy! This was fluffy fluff. Ch 108 is in progress this week, after BTR's monthly installment is complete. 
> 
> If you have a prompt you'd like me to try, feel free to mention it. I can't promise to get to it right away, but if the muse strikes, you may get lucky.

"Why don't you just ask one of them to get it for you?" Fred wanted to know. He cast a mild cleaning spell on the headmaster's bookshelves, annoyed when it didn't sparkle as nicely as he'd wanted. 

Maybe the books were charmed. Maybe. His Pareyic instinct was sidetracked by the dark scowl on Theo's face. His Alpha had done that a lot lately—scowling, glowering and glaring at everything. 

Almost as if there was nothing good left in the realms. 

Fred hummed to himself, a nonsensical tune under his breath. He cast another cleaning charm, focusing a little harder to make the magic scrape out every bit of dust in the shiny gilded pages that were visible from above. 

"There's no point unless I'm doing it myself," Theo grumbled. "And I don't have _time_ to do it myself." 

"So ask someone else," Fred repeated, patiently. He moved to the next bookshelf and began to shuffle the trinkets. Dumbledore's office was so fascinating now that it belonged to Theo, and he could take his time investigating all the shiny things he didn't dare look too closely at before. 

"You aren't listening to me!" Theo huffed. "I can't ask anyone, because there isn't anyone to ask! If I don't do it myself, there'll be problems and I don't need another headache to deal with!" 

"Draco?" Fred offered. 

Personally, he didn't think Malfoy would lift a hand—regardless of whether the prissy blond had actually mellowed out under _Severus Snape_ of all people. But, the world worked in mysterious ways. 

Or something like that. 

He tried not to think of mentioning that Theo was actually quite huggable and likable as a Slytherin. He had a feeling the sentiment would be lost in the moment. Or rather, it’d suffer in the face of Theo’s slowly building temper. They’d all been worn down to the bone this past week. Too much drama and not enough downtime. 

Theo shuddered. "Draco? He'd kill me—if I didn't kill him first. We’re Slytherin. We don’t do that kind of—thing.“ 

"Blaise?" 

"Ten times worse!" Theo snapped. "What are you doing—don't touch that!" 

Fred paused in mid-cast. The charm fizzled out to weak sparks in his hand. "It's just cleaning a charm." 

"And I don't need the office cleaned!" Theo said, bristling. "I need quiet and I need _space_! OUT!" 

A rather bewildered and miffed Fred, found himself standing in the revolving staircase heading down to the hall. His Pareyic instincts welled up quite furiously, prompting him to act at once—an impulse that fizzled out when he was deposited in the hallway and came face to face with one face he hadn't seen in some time. 

The smirk that slipped into place was quite wicked indeed. 

"...Theodore's a little frazzled right now," he began. "But it would really help him if you would...?"

* * *

Theo yanked off his wizarding robes and shifted uncomfortably in the stiff dress shirt and trousers he'd had on under it. He had three more Important Things to do before the day was over and he was _so behind._

Fred, of course, was being his usual unhelpful self and it was enough to make even the most composed men lose their fraying minds. 

Theo groaned as he heard the staircase revolve up and the chime sound over the door. He really didn't need to deal with Fred right now. He didn't need any of his Bonded, in fact, what he really needed was a nice good rant. 

Yes. 

"Fred-!" he growled. "I don't want to talk to you right now. Whatever it is you need, it can wait or go and find your brother, alright? It doesn't even matter which one at this point..." his mutterings trailed off as he flung his robes to the desk and began to rifle through the oversized stack of information files on the last batch of Hogwarts students. 

Charlie was around there—somewhere. And Harry had taken off with George. He hadn't bothered to keep track of them after that. He had work to do. 

Important Things. 

Theo scowled. He smacked a handful of folders down on the desk. He could still feel Fred's unwelcome amusement filling the office and he just wasn't in the mood for it. 

"You have five minutes to leave," he said, darkly. "Or I'll throw you out by the ear. I'm not in the mood and even Quinn won't be able to heal any scars if I get my claws in you. GO!" 

He angrily shuffled through another pointless file. They all said the same thing and it was more depressing than he'd expected. So many children—disowned, abandoned or otherwise orphaned. 

Such ugliness from names and families that were supposed to be _good_. 

"...of all the stupid, pointless-!" he swore, but it didn't make him feel any better. "If I had friends, I wouldn't have to do this myself. I wouldn't have to be here, making these kinds of decisions for children who don't even-" 

The hug, when it came, caught him entirely off-guard. 

A quiet squeak of sound might have escaped, before Theo processed two very distinct things. 

One, the hugger was _not_ one of his Bonded and two, the gentle, motherly aura radiating out of one Professor Pomona Sprout was not something he'd ever been prepared to handle. 

"P-professor Sprout-!" He stammered. 

But the old witch only smiled down at him, her expression soft, but kind. She hugged him tightly—almost like Ilsa, but not quite—and simply stood there, not commenting or offering advice. 

Just stood there. Just held him. Just kept holding him. As if he were something precious. As if he was someone worthy of kindness. 

As if....as if he were one of her own 'Puffs. 

His heart clenched. His fangs ground together. There was too much pent-up frustration inside of him to say anything nice right now. 

"You have friends," Professor Sprout said, kindly. "Even if you do not count them as yours, they certainly count themselves—as for denying it, well, I would consider it a privilege to be your friend. We are certainly not teacher and student anymore, Headmaster Nott." 

Theo choked. The title still felt foreign to him. No matter how long it'd been since they'd taken control of Hogwarts. 

"Which means, it's a rather dangerous assumption to assume that we're all here at Hogwarts out some sense of obligation or duty. Dumbledore left a mess and it'll take some time to clean it, but it's nothing a little hard work can't fix up in a hurry." 

Theo tried to speak. He failed. 

Professor Sprout squeezed, gently, before stepping back. There was a glimmer of unshed tears in her eyes as she dipped her head in greeting. "We're here because we're friends of Harry," she said, softly. "And by default, that means we're friends of _yours._ " 

It took a few seconds to find his voice at which point, Theo could only croak out a single word. "...why?" 

"Because you looked as if all the hurts inside of you were stuck somewhere here," she said, tapping her heart. "And I thought a hug might help, hm?" 

Theo took a shaky breath and then another. "I-I'm not cut out to be the Headmaster," he said, unsteadily. "I'm really-" 

"You've done an amazing job," Professor Sprout said, simply. "Why don't you talk me through some of this? It looks as if you're sorting some of our new wards. The scholarship system you implemented is really wonderful. It's already helped a lot of children." 

She offered a smile to his pained grimace and took a seat in the oversized, overstuffed chair that Dumbledore had always enjoyed. It didn't feel half as comfortable as it looked, but the minute expression of relief on Theo's face was worth it. 

"I was trying to determine the number of foster families and potential placements," Theo said, carefully. "There are some good matches and there's a few that are—probably not." 

"I can help with that," she said, briskly. "I've known more of those names than most. You'd be surprised who might be willing to step forward." 

Theo perched on the edge of the desk, gently sliding one of the top folders over to her. "This one was a little troublesome," he began. "It's for young Isabella Clarendon, the one who had the Succubus inheritance?" 

"Ah, like Miss Brown?" She drew out her wand and tapped on the empty coasters and at the corner of the desk. A fresh tea tray appeared at once. 

"...something like that." Theo accepted the freshly poured cup of tea and a ginger newt.

* * *

Outside the Headmaster's office, Fred grinned. He shoved his hands in his pockets and rode the stairs down to the hallway again. He was fairly certain Theo would kill him if he ever said that he found the Slytherin's occasional prickliness to be adorable, but well—he could get a lot of mileage out of that later. 

Much later. 

For now, he'd leave the two of them together. There'd always been something about Professor Sprout that was inherently calming and soothing. Almost like a more serene version of his Mum. 

Sort of. Molly Weasley did not do _serene_ , but she was always a steady, calming presence, whenever needed. 

Fred chuckled to himself. He'd asked Professor Sprout to be a voice of reason, he hadn't expected her to _hug_ his fuming Alpha. It'd been interesting to watch the end result and Fred silently tucked the memory away for later replay. 

Maybe he could try that in the future. A little luck and a lot of love...


	3. Ryker's Bane Snippet (Ryuusen)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A worried Ryuusen waits for Maury and Harry to return from an outing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RYKER'S BANE : ALPHA (Ryuusen)  
> A/N: Please note for the original Circle of Ryker's Bane, Maurice IS an Empath. If he had lived to take Harry in, he would've been the Empath to guide him, not Juniper Evanson. As such, all Harry x Ryker's Bane snippets will show Empath!Maury. 

**EMERALD HOLLOW - MAIN ROOM - ELSWOOD MANOR (EVENING)**

Ryuusen paced the floor for the ninetieth time. He ignored Llevan's knowing look and resisted the urge to kick something. 

Maurice knew better than to stay out this late--as did Harry. If both of them were together--his temper simmered. 

They were under lockdown for a reason. 

Picking a fight with the Doursen Clans wasn't the stupidest idea he'd had, but Alcrowe had been bored and he'd grown tired of listening to his Bonded fuss and whine. There was only so much of it that he could handle. Ryker's Bane was not good at peaceable cohabitation without some sort of distraction or recovery in place. 

They needed something to constantly tear their fangs and claws into. The Doursens had just happened to be available--and despicable enough--so he'd gone ahead and jumped straight into it. 

The backlash had resulted in a few shuffling things, along with some temporary rules. 

Like curfew. 

Ryuusen growled--loudly. 

Across the room, Llevan sighed. "If you're just going to growl and snarl at thin air, why don't you go meet them halfway?" He asked, practically. "They might have gotten held up by something out of their control. Pacing here and stewing over it, won't help anyone." 

"They should've accounted for that!" Ryuusen twitched. He knew Maury well enough to know that his Submissive _would_ have taken that into account. Maury was brilliant like that, knowing things without his having to spell it out for him. 

It was one of the habits that endeared him to Ryuusen, so he'd immediately dismissed that possibility at once. There were only a handful of options remaining, which meant that he'd have to do one of two things—one, punishment, because every action had a consequence or two, absolute destruction, because if anyone had laid a hand on Maury or Harry, he'd _kill_ them. 

Slowly. 

Llevan shook his head. "It's not a weakness to go after them," he scolded. "Meeting them halfway would settle your instincts and Maury would probably be happy to-" 

"I don't need to settle my damn instincts," Ryuusen hissed. "I need them to follow the rules they’ve had drilled into their-“ 

The front door cracked open and the scent of blood flooded the room. 

Llevan's hiss was echoed by Ryuusen as both of them took in the sight of a blood-covered Maury, supporting a pale and injured Harry. 

"Maurice-!" Ryuusen nearly spat the name out, before the full sight registered. 

Maury's eyes were still a fading green. Not his usual half-gold, half-silver glow, but actual _green._ He'd been in a position where he'd had to actually use their namesake, Ryker's Bane— _and he hadn't called for backup._

Ryuusen felt as if he'd been shredded into a dozen pieces, then glued together inside out. That detail hurt like he hadn't expected. Surely Maurice knew to call, if he was in trouble. He had to know that they wouldn't hold it against him, that it was alright--even if he was late. 

Or something. As long as he called. 

"It's not all mine," Maury gritted out. Blood trickled down from one corner of his temple. The wound must've been horrible at the first strike, because it was now mostly healed over, but still had a ways to go. He listed towards Ryuusen's frozen form. "We were attacked. Ninth quadrant, twelfth point. Couldn’t—call." 

There were no words that Ryuusen could spare straightaway. Logically, he processed what Maurice had just said, but on the other hand--he really did want to tear into something. If he didn't stay put, he'd hurt someone. 

That someone would likely be Maury. 

Ryuusen ground his fangs together, silently willing himself to get it together. He found himself frozen in a mixture of horror and barely contained bloodlust. He was furious, but he just needed to properly redirect that anger. Seeing Maurice bloody and injured had set off a whole 'nother set of instincts that he really hadn't prepared for. 

Llevan twitched from his corner in the room, having already set his things down and started straight for them. His lips pressed together in a tight line, but the angry warble that he gave, had the rest of their Bonded answering at once. 

The Twins appeared almost at once, melting out of the shadows as if they'd been lurking and waiting for Maury's return. They hissed and growled among each other, in a series of nonverbal bickering, as they wrestled Harry from Maury and pushed both reluctant Alpha and Submissive together. 

Ryuusen sat, half-frozen on the sofa, with Maury deliberately sat on his lap. His arms hesitantly circled around Maury's waist, as the Twins fussed over each of their injuries in turn. 

"You used your seal?" The Twin tending to Maury, looked as if he'd like to bite his head off for that bit of information, but didn't dare with Ryuusen so close to the edge--or within reach of both of them. 

Maury twitched, whining pathetically when Ryuusen's sharp fangs dug harshly into his neck. "Ryu—!” 

"Shhh. He's been out of his mind since you were two minutes late," Llevan said, studying both of them with undisguised worry in his dark gaze. "Paced a hole in the floor. What happened?" 

Maury sniffled, bright eyes glazed with pain. He couldn't answer just yet. The healing wasn't taking yet and things _hurt._ He wanted Ryuusen to make it better before it making it worse. He knew he was late and Ryuusen would fuss at him for it, but later—not now. He whined again, to let his Bonded know that he wasn't capable of handling anything rough. 

Not now. Not tonight. Maybe not for the rest of the week. 

"Ryuusen," Llevan growled. "Be gentle." 

There was an angry warble in answer, before Ryuusen disengaged, turning Maury in his lap, enough to cradle his head to his neck. There was a slight flicker of embarrassment, but it was immediately blotted out by concern. He understood what Llevan was saying without needing to directly translate the jumble of shared emotions behind Maury's whines. 

"Bite me, you idiot," he muttered, faintly. "And you-" he glared at the nearest Gheyo--one of the Twins. "He needs at least five antidotes from the red shelf and three blood spikes from the green batch. Hurry." 

The Twin nodded, relieved. "I could only read three of the poisons," he muttered. "Be right back. What did they do to him? And I thought you had spells on him to break through any blocks? Did you already call-" 

"Ryuusen!" Alcrowe's angry rumble from the door way made everyone, but Ryuusen, flinch. "Maurice used his damn seal to cast one of those-!" A series of swears left his mouth as he took in the sight of a pale, trembling Maury settled in Ryuusen's lap and an equally pale Harry, cradled by one of his own Suite. “What in-" 

"He couldn't call," Ryuusen rumbled. "Calm yourself." 

"As if you're calm." 

"In that case, don't look at Harry," Ryuusen snapped. 

Predictably, Alcrowe did just that. His spell-muffled screech was enough to rattle the walls. "They actually dared to-" 

"I told you they were scum. You said it was better to wait and cut them off at the head. Care to revise your opinion?" Ryuusen stroked a hand up and down Maury's side, silently encouraging him to feed. He didn't relax until Maury's tentative bite latched on, becoming stronger after the first few mouthfuls. "Good Submissive," he murmured. 

Maury snuffled, relaxing a fraction. The pain wasn't easing yet, but it was somehow more tolerable in Ryuusen's arms than it had been a few minutes ago. He was still waiting for the healing to kick in. 

Llevan rolled his eyes, but dropped to a crouch beside the Twin currently cuddling Harry on his lap. It was painful to see that Harry was out cold, the sluggishly bleeding wound on his forehead, giving too much away. 

"Curse scar?" Alcrowe checked, hovering over him. 

"Yes. They must've had something on him or something he reacted to. Maury would've-" 

"Attacked on sight, unless otherwise provoked," Llevan finished. "Yes. From the looks of it, I'd say that he was provoked. Should we revive him?" 

"Yes," said the Twin studying Harry closely. "Maybe you talk to him though. I think he's still scared of me." 

Llevan shrugged, lips quirking. "That's because you're always growling at him. If you'd temper that, he'd listen." 

"And if I asked you to stop breathing, would you?" The twin snarked. "Just cast the bloody spell and stop trying to think for both of us." 

Llevan gave him a mild look, but proceeded to do as directed. The revival spell was medium-strength and double-layered, to be mindful of Harry and Maury's combined empathy. "Harry?" He murmured, brushing back Harry's sticky hair from his pale face. 

Harry shivered in the room, one hand reaching out, blindly in Maury's direction. "Oret-!" There was a hint of panic in his voice. "No, don't hurt him-!" 

"Move him closer," Ryuusen muttered. "Before they both start having reactions. Where were they headed today? What were they actually doing?" 

"You didn't ask?" Llevan snorted. "Sorry, sorry-!" He skittered back at Ryuusen's sharp glare. 

Normally, he knew better than to poke at his Alpha's bad tempers, but sometimes, he couldn't help it. His instincts were always unsettled when Ryuusen was in this kind of a mood. It prompted him to make things easier for Maury, even if he didn't particularly want Ryuusen's fangs in _his_ neck. 

"Where?" Alcrowe rumbled. 

Llevan fought the urge to bare his neck and failed. He twitched, restlessly, under Alcrowe's glittering gaze. "They were going to the Hartwoods, something about getting a tutor for Harry? Maury wanted someone who didn't mind taking extra time to explain Nevarean and dragel things." 

Ryuusen twitched, somehow managing to appear more restrained than his fuming ACE. He rubbed Maury's side a little harder, as if that would ease the slight tremors he could still feel. It didn't, but short of reaffirming their bond right there in front of Harry, Ryuusen didn't know what else to do to stop an empathic reaction at this level.

Harry was now close enough to hold one of Maury's lax hands in his own. 

The immediate connection was obvious, as both empaths latched onto each other. The air in the room warmed to a noticeable temperature, as their magic intertwined and multiplied in a matter of minutes. 

Harry's fearful yelp was silenced at once by the Twin holding him close. 

"Harry, you're safe. You're home. Maury got you home. You're with everyone. Everything is fine," the Twin soothed. 

There was a single, stuttering moment where Harry's bright, power-filled eyes, flared with enough magic to make the walls _melt_ , before he curled back inside of himself, small, shaking hands clutching at the Twin's shirt. 

It was a testament to how frightening the experience had been, that he clung to the Twin, instead of flinching away, as he usually did. The Twins were stern and uncompromising, but they were working to be more accessible to Harry, a detail that he'd studiously ignored. Now, it seemed that they were preferable to whatever awful thing had taken place. 

"Shhh, you're fine. You're safe. We'll make them pay," the Twin promised. He cuddled Harry closer, mimicking Ryuusen's movements to stroke a comforting arm up and down Harry's back. 

"T-they knew we were going to be there," Harry said, hollowly. "They _knew_. They waited for us and they wouldn’t—we almost—but they wouldn't."

"Waited?" the Twin exchanged a glance with their other half. "Ryu-" 

"Don't jump to conclusions," Ryuusen growled. But his eyes were nearly pitch black and he'd said the words more for his own benefit than that of his Bonded. He wanted blood out of this mess and he'd have it, even if he had to draw it himself. 

"You won't talk yourself out of this," Alcrowe growled. "Don't you dare! I've had enough of tiptoeing around those damned souls and I won't stand for backing down like soft-scaled cowards that haven't got an ounce of-" 

“Who said anything about backing out of it?” 

“So now you grow a backbone? What—you’ll torture their-” 

“I’ll rip their souls straight out of their-” 

Why me?" The words came out of Harry's mouth, a tad bitterly. "What did I ever do?" 

And that stopped everyone right there. Even Alcrowe. The tension flip-flopped straight to confusion and a sudden stretch of silence.

They all turned and stared at him, Maury included, even though he had to give up his bite on Ryuusen's neck. 

Confusion, bewilderment and puzzlement radiated through all bonds, mirrored back and amplified by Maury, who finally stirred enough to sit up straight. 

"Harry," Maury said, slowly. "What makes you think this is your fault?" 

Harry flinched. He knew better than to actually meet his Oret's understanding gaze. That would undo him right there and he needed to wallow for a few minutes longer. Just enough to get it out of his system, then he could hide those ugly feelings again. 

Then he could pretend everything was fine again. Even if it wasn't. 

Any tears now would be proof of a breakdown that he was in no condition to hide. They’d discover just how weak he was and then—and then-! 

"Harry," Ryuusen prompted, when no answer was forthcoming. 

"Shh," Maury shushed him, patting Ryuusen's cheek with an absent hand. “Don’t push him. It was—a shock. We weren’t expecting-” he coughed and spat out a mouthful of blackened blood. 

Ryuusen grimaced, vanishing the mess with a flick of one hand. He bared his fangs, unhappily. “Maurice-!” 

“I know. I’m sorry,” Maury said, contritely. “Be mad later?” He nuzzled Ryuusen’s chin. “Much later. I—I can’t—right now—Harry-" He shivered at the hands that tightened around his waist, squeezing gently in answer. 

“Harry—what do you mean this is all your fault?” Llevan picked up the thread of conversation, his expression calm. “I can’t understand how you’ve possibly come to that conclusion, but I assure you that-” 

"You went to the Hartwoods because of me," Harry said, stiffly. 

“Because we’ve worked with them before and they’re excellent scholars. If one of them tutored you, it would certainly go a long way in helping your studies-” Llevan tried to explain. 

Harry sat up straight. “No! This never would’ve happened. None of it would’ve happened if you hadn't gone there for me-” 

"Oh Arielle, no you _don't!_ " Maury lurched out of Ryuusen's lap, half-dragging him closer to the Twin and Harry. "You don't get to guess at something like that. But if I need to spell it out for you, I will. There's no telling whether they chose to attack today, because they felt like it or because they happened to see us. It has nothing to do with my taking you to the Hartwoods to look for a tutor. This is _not your fault!_ It is in no way, shape or form, your fault. It is an unfortunate incident and has nothing to do with your accompanying me or being here as our ward-” 

Harry's green eyes were suspiciously shiny. "Does too!" he shot back. "If you hadn't gone—if we hadn't gone-" 

"Then they could just have easily targeted us on the way to the Courts tomorrow, picking up the repaired weaponry next week or visiting the library for a reference book. Who knows why? Thinking what-if and driving yourself mad for something like that-" 

"You were hurt!" Harry snapped, glaring at Maury with renewed strength. "They nearly _killed_ you!" 

Predictably, the entire room was filled with growls and hisses. 

Maury rolled his eyes with the long-suffering air of a Submissive used to wrangling a contrary Circle. "They did not _nearly_ kill me," he said, annoyed. "They made a decent effort and I took care of it. Besides, it's not the first time I've been in that kind of a situation." He twitched when Ryuusen's arms locked around his waist, dragging him to back to his lap. "Ryuu—don’t—ah! Kesmar, you're in a mood." He huffed when Ryuusen pinched his side in answer to that observation. 

It wasn't that he didn't understand what was happening. His empathy did a fantastic job of bringing all of them to the same page with the kind of emotional wallop that refused to let the situation blow over as quickly as possible. It wanted them to wade through the particulars and then settle it with some sort of bloodshed. 

Preferably on part of the attackers. 

Ryuusen didn't bother to wait for another excuse or complaint. He held Maury still for another bite, a fraction gentler than before. His low growl prevented Maury's more vocal protests, but didn't stop him from squirming in protest. There was a lot more he wanted to do than simply _bite_ , but he was trying to keep from taking clothes _off_. 

Harry looked away, cheeks warming. He didn't want to argue about this, but he knew better than to think that his Oret—or any of Ryker's Bane—would let his words go. Not over something like that. 

The Twin holding him, clucked disapprovingly. "You can't blame yourself for things you have no control over," he scolded, picking right up in the same vein that Maury had left off. "If you truly were responsible, then we wouldn't have let you out of the house with that kind of a threat looming overhead. This was nothing more than a simple errand and has more to do with Ryker's Bane as a Circle, than you or Maury, as an individual." 

"But if we hadn't-" Harry protested, stubbornly. 

The Twin sighed. Loudly. "Let's try it this way, shall we? Suppose the Hartwoods didn't have a suitable tutor? Wouldn't you have gone somewhere else? Or tried again tomorrow?" 

"If I wasn't here-“ Harry started to say. 

The Twin scowled and caught Harry's face in his hands, holding him steady. 

Harry understood the intent too late to wriggle free. The other Twin was close enough to lean in and bite both ears—sharply—in reprimand. A low whine escaped. That did hurt, but mostly because the Twins had to actually make their point physically, than for his throbbing ears. 

He was only stating the truth-! Ryker's Bane had made so many adjustments since he'd turned up. He couldn't help feeling that he'd turned their entire lives upside down with his arrival. He’d only ever wanted to be in a family. A small, quiet and calm family. Instead, he’d gotten a large, fiercely protective and ridiculously loyal circle of guardians who had no qualms about dishing out reward and punishment in equal measure, while showering him with affection and parental support before he even knew what he wanted. 

"If you weren't Maury's student," the Twin said, smoothly. He released Harry's face, tipping up his chin with one scarred finger. "Then you'd be our son. At which point, I think the result would be the same. You would go out searching for a tutor and run into trouble, because those filthy cowards are just that—cowards. They look for a weakness and try to exploit it. This same line of thinking would earn you exactly this-" He tapped the half-healed bites on Harry’s ears. "And _this."_ he tucked Harry's head beneath his chin, with a low, soothing rumble vibrating through him. 

Harry's breath caught in his throat. He couldn’t even feel anything now. His ears were already half-healed, the punishment over before it'd even begun. He didn't dare make a sound. He couldn’t. There was no way he could answer a declaration like that. 

His aching heart stuttered a few beats. This was so much more than he'd ever dared to dream of. 

Maury warbled softly from where he was, more relaxed now than before. Ryuusen had finally withdrawn, now pressing a series of soft, apologetic kisses along Maury's reddened neck. It seemed that the last bite had finally done what the first should have. Both of them looked significantly happier now that their instincts were quite obviously settled. 

“But-!” Harry hiccuped. 

"He's technically right," Llevan said, wearily. "Harry, finding you a tutor was not the only reason Maury went out today. He was also searching for some research material that I asked him for and Alcrowe had asked him to pick up a new suit of armor. These are typical errands. Just because he chose to visit the Hartwoods first, doesn't mean that-" 

"He didn't mention that," Harry said, hating the way his voice broke. "He didn't say that we were going to-" 

"Because he's an absent-minded idiot," Ryuusen muttered. He nuzzled Maury's cheek. "I thought that's what you were going to do in the time that you-" 

"I was," Maury said, wrinkling his nose. "But we got sidetracked. I was going to beg an escort when we got back and end with dinner. I know the Twins are tired of cooking and-"

"Since when are we tired of cooking?" 

"We're not tired of cooking!" 

The Twin's protests overlapped, causing them to glare at each other, instead of their faintly amused Submissive. 

"You're tired," Maury said, matter-of-factly. He didn't need his Empathy to read the discord between his Bonded when they wore on each other for a bit too long. A simple outing or a good amount of space usually sorted everyone out. He'd been hoping to tackle that and give Harry an enjoyable outing at the same time. Apparently, he'd taken on too much in a single day.

"I'm tired," Llevan muttered. "You exhaust me." 

"You can be as tired as you like," Maury said, lips twitching. "But that's not what I meant. Look, they knew what they were doing. They knew what they meant to do and it happened so quickly, there wasn't much that we could do. They were trying to separate us and there was definite lethal intent." 

"Really?" Alcrowe drawled. "At what point did you think _that_?" His tone was dangerous, suggesting that he'd be right in line behind Ryuusen at checking over Maurice and imparting the seriousness of the situation as soon as they were away from Harry. 

"Oh be quiet," Maury snapped. Ryuusen's fangs in his neck were one thing—they were more grounding and reassuring. Alcrowe's fangs in him were sure to stir up the kinds of emotions he'd tried to settle before 'porting home. If Alcrowe had his fangs—or his claws—in him anytime soon, he’d probably run back to the scene just to wreak more havoc. 

Just because he could. 

Even wielding Ryker’s Bane hadn’t satisfied his urge for blood. He wanted them _ruined_ and Arielle, save him—he’d have something as soon as he was out of earshot—for Harry’s sake, anyway. 

Alcrowe growled in answer, his eyes dark. "Just because you're in his lap, doesn't mean you're fine or _safe_." 

Maury squirmed. There was far too much promise in those words and he knew quite well what his ACE meant. He also wasn't in the mood to be pacifying two of his dominant Bonded at the same time. Not yet, anyway. 

He stilled when Ryuusen's fangs grazed over his neck again. "Ryu—please. I'm fine. I just-" He winced at the bite that came anyway. He could read the emotion behind it though and that eased all of his frustration. Their instincts were settled, this bite was simply his Alpha being the contrary creature that he was. 

And also preventing Alcrowe from stealing the moment from them. 

It wasn’t really like Maury minded—much. He just preferred bites in more romantic settings, where things could progress to more enjoyable interludes, instead of leaving him all hot and bothered. Ryuusen's bites were stirring him up in more ways than one and he was struggling to stay coherent and presentable, given that Harry was practically an arm's length away. 

He was reasonably sure that Alcrowe would be next in line, as soon as this was settled enough for Ryuusen to remove him from the room. Hopefully the Twins would stay with Harry until he was settled. 

Llevan perked a brow. 

"I'm fine," Maury whispered, reaching one hand back to touch Ryuusen's stubbled cheek. "I summoned Ryker's Bane because it would speed things up and I didn't want them to try and get serious." 

Ryuusen growled. He withdrew, licking blood-flecked lips. "And if I kill them, you don't have a problem, do you?" he challenged. The only reason he'd spared them had been Maury's initial protests that they didn't have to solve every problem with bloodshed. He was still regretting that conversation and Alcrowe's words grated on him. Of course he wanted them dead, doubly-so now that they'd dared to lay hands on Maury and Harry.

Maury side-eyed him. "No," he said, slowly. "But you might have to get in line." 

Ryuusen's eyes narrowed. The room darkened. "Explain." 

"Their fancy little pampered son has been making noise about Harry since he accepted Theodore's courtship." 

Predictably, Ryuusen's brow furrowed. The pressure in the room, eased. "They're _what_?" 

"Yanek," Maury supplied. "Submissive rank like Harry. He has his eye on Theodore Gorgens-Nott, remember? Same as Harry. He's been kicking up a fuss about it." There was a reason he hadn’t painted the entire site red. He’d tried to hold onto the evaporating strands of restraint and it had taken every ounce of self-control to do so—and the sight of Harry’s horrified expression. 

"Why am I only hearing about this now?" 

"Because you call it gossip and you whine when I talk about it," Maury said, flatly. "Kiss, please." He cuddled closer. 

Ryuusen snorted, but obliged. He soothed Maury's faint bristling with requested kiss and followed up with another, more insistent one. "So I can't kill them?" 

Alcrowe growled in answer. His bloodthirst was trickling through all of their bonds. Even if Maury and Ryuusen were somehow willing to let this go, there was no way he'd let them. 

"I'm not saying you can't," Maury hedged. "I'm just saying I think it's a stupid idea to get in the Deveraines' way, if we want them for in-laws." 

Collectively, his Circle winced. This was the sort of Circle politics that neither of them, save for Maury, ever had the head for. The Deveraines had enough of a reputation for them to know that stepping on their claws--figuratively or not--would lead to not-so-nice consequences.

Harry, predictably, turned bright red. "Oret!" 

“What? It’s the truth, isn’t it? If that Theodore is not going to properly court and bond with you, then there’s no-” 

Harry hid his face in his hands. His empathy was picking up on every single thread of amusement from the entire room. There was no way he’d live this down. 

Ryuusen sighed. He couldn't leave it alone though, in-laws to-be or not. There had to be some way to get his point across without stomping on too many obstacles. Or leaving Alcrowe to carve a path of destruction a dozen miles wide. His fangs ached and he wished he could bite a few _other_ places on his self-satisfied Submissive. “Llevan?" 

"I'll talk to their Betas," Llevan said, slowly. "They have a Rheyo—Aracle, I think?" 

"You don't know?" 

"We haven't exactly mingled, because a certain _someone_ has taken it upon themselves to cut us out from our usual social interactions during the Hunt and since I've had to work with _old_ information and _outdated_ sources-" 

"I get it, I get it already," Ryuusen grumbled. "I heard your whining the first time around and I apologized, alright? It's fine. Arrange whatever it is that we have to, so we can either roll heads or-" 

"Roll hearts?" Llevan smirked. He was standing too far away for anything other than Ryuusen's glare. "Yes, yes, of course. I'll take care of it." 

"Thank you," Ryuusen said, crisply. "And if the rest of you could take care of Harry for a moment, we'll be right back."

“Don’t rush yourselves,” Alcrowe sniped. He dodged the shoe that Maury threw his way. “Maurice!” 

"Harry doesn't want to be taken care of," Llevan drawled. He ducked the other shoe that came flying his way, sniggering into one hand as his Alpha and Submissive disappeared down the hallway, still clinging tightly to each other. 

"And that's enough out of you," Alcrowe rumbled, switching his sights at once to the next Bonded that most needed this attention. 

"Is it?" Llevan dared. "I'm not the one who—ow— _OH. YES. That’s perfect—ah!_ ” 

Alcrowe hooked an arm around Llevan's neck, dragging him off in a headlock. His claws were still half-buried in Llevan's side, but from the happy flush on both of their faces, it didn't seem that anyone minded. Llevan, of course, put up a token protest for all of five seconds. He was practically purring in delight, by the time they disappeared from view.

Harry's face remained pink for the next ten minutes, but no one complained when he didn't give up his cuddle for the next fifteen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously posted on my Patreon. I meant to 'port it over here sooner.  
> ^_^ A fun glimpse of our boys from Ryker's Bane. I loved the thought of Ryuusen all growly and taking care of both Harry and Maury. Enjoy! (and y'all stay safe!) <3 <3 <3
> 
> (Find me on Patreon @ www.patreon.com/scioneeris -- I post a monthly schedule where you can see what I'm working on and what's coming up next!)


	4. I Need You Nearer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In honor of Harry's 40th bday in RL. :P 
> 
> A sort of fluffy, slightly angsty, but soft snippet of Pregnant!Harry and his Circle in the Teddy AU-verse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Vxgt for reminding me it was Harry's 40th bday this year!

In hindsight, Harry would remember this incident for all future pregnancies. He doesn't quite remember what sets him off, beyond Draco's smirk, he only recalls the fury that raced through his veins and the irrational urge to set the prissy blond on _fire_. 

There are actual flames in his hands when he lunges, a viciousness accompanying it, that he can’t quite place. He stumbles, faintly, surprised by the sheer force of the emotion.

Draco still stands, annoyingly in one piece and not horribly ruined.

Granted, he isn't allowed that luxury, because one tall, glowering Severus Snape steps in, along with an equally upset and horrified Theodore. So, Harry, despite his sparking magic and still simmering temper, is hastily 'ported home by one of Ethan's quick spells. 

Being home isn't much better—though Harry doesn't know why—and so, naturally, he takes his frustration out in the nicest way possible. 

Well, the nicest way with the _least_ amount of destruction, that is.

The house is a wreck and his Bonded are... _nervous_. But they don’t stop him at all.

When Harry wakes the next day, he's pleasantly exhausted and in a much better mood even if he has no idea what he did. There's certainly something to say for keeping it all bottled in and he's glad he was able to let it out. 

Even if it was only for a little while. 

The unfortunate part of this is the aftermath, because he didn’t think that part through.

Hindsight, Harry knows...really is…20/20...

* * *

An explosive temper is many things, but a deterrent to physical affection is not a side effect that Harry expects. He's fussing and fretting, but his Bonded are being maddeningly polite, calm, perfect and _distant_. 

It's awful and he _hates_ it. Hates it so much. And can't ask for a do-over, because that requires apologies and he's still mad at the stuffy blond prat. 

Which means he's also still mad at his Bonded who _didn't do anything_ to keep him from trying to tear Draco's hair out and how they just let Severus glare at him!

Well. That's not entirely true. They did plenty, it's just that he really, really wanted to get his claws in Draco. 

How dare the blond make eyes at _his_ Theo?! 

Theo is Harry’s. He always will be. A fussy, fretful Draco is nothing compared to Harry. After all, Harry knows just what his Theo likes.

His thoughts shift from murder to something else entirely. Harry turns the idea over in his head, growing more attached to it by the moment, because it has been a while.

Maybe he's not being entirely rational, but at this point _who cares_? Certainly not Harry...

He's brilliant. He can handle this. He always handles things. It's just a matter of...subtlety. Yeah. He can do this. He's so brilliant, his Bonded will be tripping over themselves to enjoy him. 

Right. 

He’ll have Theo and everyone else. Why not? It’s his Circle. They’re his Bonded. It’d be a good way to work off the stress. Harry rubs his baby bump, absently.

Then again, this is a lot of trouble just to get laid and if it wasn't for these crazy hormones...

* * *

"Harry?" Theo comes bustling through the door, only to frown at the sight of Harry lounging about happily on the fur rugs in front of the center fireplace in the living room. "You should wear something," Theo scolds, summoning a blanket from the sofa to wrap around his naked submissive. 

Harry's jaw drops and he stares up at him. 

"If you're cold, then wear something warm,” Theo fusses, tucking the blanket more firmly around Harry's shoulders and skimming his fingers over the obvious baby bump with a hint of Alpha magic. 

It’s a slight protection spell, but tempered to be as soft as possible, so as not to ruffle Harry’s instincts or his slightly more volatile magic.

Theo’s gone then, just as quickly as he's blown through the room, leaving behind a fairly shocked and surprised Harry. He’s confused and he huddles into the blanket, even if it’s now becoming a bit warm.

After all, every time he's stretched out like _this_ in front of the fireplace, it's always ended quite well. 

His Bonded have never refused such a blatant invitation before and most certainly not his appreciative Theo...

* * *

_No, Teddy. That's unacceptable behavior. I already explained the reasons why you're staying home today and I asked if you understood. You assured me that you did and now, the Twins find you sneaking out the back door? Do you know what kind of danger you'd be in, if Ethan didn't bring you back?._ Quinn's expression is stern and uncompromising as he finishes up the lecture to a certain, contrite 10-year-old Teddy. 

Harry pauses in the doorway, thinking that maybe, he should come back some other time, because Quinn in a mood is kind of dangerous. 

Kind of. And also incredibly hot. 

When Teddy is sent off to his room to write a letter of apology, Quinn's sharp teal eyes zero in on Harry without delay. 

_Do you need a snack? I've already prepared something. Salty or sweet?_

Harry blinks. A snack is the last thing on his mind—well, unless Quinn is included in that list of options, but from the brisk, business-like way Quinn bustles through the kitchen, Harry knows he's hit a wall before the impact registers. 

Heat curls through his body, pooling in his belly with a deliberate throb. Of course, it’s expecting a lot, he knows Quinn is usually busy, but he wants this so bad, it almost hurts.

How can Quinn, of all people, not see this? Shouldn't he know what's up with Harry? What kind of Healer can't tell when-! 

But now Harry stands outside of the kitchen with a small, overflowing plate cradled in his hands. He's tempted to throw the whole thing back into the kitchen—specifically at Quinn, but that's partially how he's ended up in this mess in the first place. Sort of. It was Draco's kitchen, after all...

His spectacular temper tantrum has resulted in every single one of his Bonded treating him with kid gloves. It's terrible. 

But he's just horny, not suicidal.

Quinn would _kill_ him for wasting food. Not that he would actually dispose of the delicious looking foodstuffs anywhere but in his mouth. There's a few favorites in there after all...

Morosely, Harry stuffs his face and shuffles off to find another one of his Bonded. His skin is prickly and itchy, scales half-surfaced in some patches. He really does need to get one of them alone for a few minutes.

Surely there’s one of them interested at least...

* * *

Charlie's covered in dragon dung, weird fluids and a ridiculous amount of dirt and still-healing burns. He knows he’s melted scales in a few places, but it was worth it.

The day has been hard, but thoroughly rewarding and he’s loved it. He strips out of his ruined clothes with the ease of borne of doing it hundreds of times before. 

The sight of those delicious looking muscles and all that lovely tanned skin is so, _so_ tempting and Harry wants. He's aching to run his fingers over that sweaty, scarred back and feel the way Charlie heals over with smooth, shiny scales. 

Even if the smell is too strong for his now full stomach, Harry thinks he could handle it, if Charlie could give him what he wants.

After all, it's not like his Beta will actually turn him down, right? Harry bites his lip at the way that Charlie sweeps his sweaty hair off of his shoulders and twists it into a knot, wrestling a hair tie over the entire thing. 

The messy bun is just _perfect_ and Harry could almost cry. He can practically feel those strong, warm arms curled around him and a strangled sound leaves his throat. 

Charlie jerks around, his beautiful blue eyes wide in surprise. "Shit—sorry," he winces. "I-I forgot scent charms." He casts them hastily and snatches up the bundle of stained, smelly clothes with a slight blush. "Sorry. I-I'll get straight in the shower." 

The last time Harry had gotten a good whiff, he’d lost his lunch. There’s no way either of them want a repeat of the last time. But before Harry can tell him that it’s actually not that bad—Charlie is hurrying away.

And then he's gone, leaving a shocked and surprised Harry staring after him.

_Arielle-!_

* * *

The Twins don't even look up when Harry enters their workshop, uninvited. He's done his best to find a nice, appropriately sexy outfit and he'd layered some shielding charms over the whole thing, just in case they were testing anything. 

It’s lovely to watch them work, he thinks.

"Fred-?" Harry ventures, sidling up to the worktable. It looks interesting, sort of, whatever it is that they're working on, but it also looks like they're in a good stopping place, so maybe, just maybe, he can get a chance on that worktable himself-

"Harry?" Fred pivots, his safety visor flipped up over his head. He likes using actual equipment sometimes, instead of spells. His face is smudged with grease and he looks tired. 

Really, really _tired_. 

"Did Theo send you?" George asks, wearily. He turns as well, flipping up his safety visor. "We're not making any progress right now, it's the layering that's taking too long and I don't know if we'll finish before deadline, actually. We're doing our best to-" 

"Actually," Harry begins. "I thought you could use a break, so I-" 

The twins slump in unison. "A break sounds good," they both say, relieved. 

"Wake me in twenty?" George asks, stifling a huge yawn. 

"Make it thirty," Fred mumbles. He turns back to the worktable and folds his arms, to bury his head in them. "Thirty'll be...good..." 

And it's a matter of minutes, before they're both snoring and Harry's muffled squawk of frustration doesn't even wake them. He casts a timer spell and stomps out of the workroom. 

After all the trouble he went to wear that itty bitty pair of shorts and the stupid little shiny crop top that went with it and those _awful_ knee-high socks--! 

* * *

Ethan's room is empty, but Harry knows that he'll be along in a few minutes. Ethan's routine is predictable and perfect, so he waits—naked, of course. 

Sure enough, it's five minutes later before Ethan comes bustling through the doorway, five filled laundry baskets floating behind him and his earbuds in, while another guest lecture plays. 

Golden eyes sharpen at once. "I told you I'd bring it, Harry," Ethan says, a touch disapprovingly. He floats the laundry baskets around the bed and pops out one of his earbuds. “The soft pajamas, right?" he roots through the basket closest to him and pulls out a wad of clothes. "Here you are, everything freshly washed and I even used the soft scented detergent." 

Shaking them out and using a quick softening and folding spell, Ethan tucks the clean pair in Harry's arms, then spins him around pushes him to the door. "Brush your teeth and wash your face," he says, briskly. "Make sure you use Quinn's tooth gel and and Alec's night cream. I don't want to hear about-" 

Harry squawks, balking at the unexpected fussing. "By myself?" He sputters, shocked, surprised and annoyed because this really isn't what he's after and why would Ethan actually send him away without a-! 

Ethan sighs. Loudly. He pops out the other earbud and tosses it to the bed with the other. He snaps his fingers and the laundry in the baskets begin to float into the air as they smooth and fold themselves into neat piles. 

"Really, Harry?" there's a hint of exasperation in his voice, but Ethan takes the pajamas back and before Harry can process what's happening, he's dressed and being marched down to the bathroom. 

His protests are ignored as Ethan's sharp Look is enough to stop him from talking, while his teeth is meticulously brushed for him and his face is slathered with Alec's sweetly-scented face cream. 

Ethan then scoops him up from the bathroom sink—which provided the perfect height for brushing his teeth, apparently—dumps him into the fluffy pile of pillows and sheets in the main resting room. "Sleep," he says, sternly. "If you're too tired to brush your teeth, then go to bed earlier next time." 

Harry is too speechless to protest. 

* * *

Harry screams into the pile of pillows and sheets, fuming and well on his way to another temper tantrum. Sure, there's more Bonded he could try and pester, but he's a sensitive soul and none of his usual attempts seem to be working. 

He whines, whimpers and growls into the pillows, writhing unhappily in the comfortable spot, until his anger gets the better of him and then he's furious all over again. _How can they not want him?_ he rages, to himself. Sure, he was a _little_ rounder than usual and maybe a crop top wasn't the _best_ look for him, but he'd tried! 

He'd honestly tried and it hurts that none of them had taken him up on what he'd been offering. 

And so he builds a nest of sorts within the resting room. It’s not a proper Pareyic cocoon—he’d need his actual Pareya for that—but it’s close enough for now. He just wants something that will make everything hurt less.

Soft, puffy pillow walls and sleek, spell-charmed sheets layered over the soft blankets in the center. It's nice. It smells mostly like his Bonded, so he's alright with that detail for now. But he's still— _frustrated_ and it's getting to him. 

He's pulled on nearly all of their bonds today, but his Bonded have been terribly unresponsive. Harry can’t understand why. One one claw, he knows something’s wrong, but on the other—he feels hurt.

Genuinely hurt and it makes his heart squeeze tight.

Hadrian actually _left him_ in the _bath_ with promises of making sure that no one else disturbed him. 

Really, it was enough to make him want to scream all over again. Harry sniffled into the pillow, hating the sudden flux of emotions. This was _awful_. 

Alec would always humor him without fail, but he'd gone back to the Merrow courts on an errand, and Wikhn was still negotiating with the Fae Council for reinforcements. The rest of his Suite is scattered, his Advisor is busy _advising_ and his Royal is... _Royalling_...and Harry just doesn't know what to do anymore. 

He stares up at the ceiling, miserably and gives into the ugly, unhappy sobs that wrack his petite body. His magic swirls in agitation around him, but Harry's too unhappy to care. He smooths a hand over his baby bump and wishes the baby were here already.

This is the absolute worst!

* * *

Theo is scrubbing shampoo through his hair when his brain clicks into gear. He's tired and it's been the kind of thankless day that he hates, but the image of Harry naked and hopeful, sprawled out on that stupid rug is _doing_ things to him now. 

He swears as the shampoo runs in his eyes and then stands under the warm shower spray complaining some more. Because while he had seen Harry, their bonds had communicated only a deep contentment and nothing more. 

Even if he’d been pleased, then hopeful, the lack of feedback through their bond had shut him down at once.

No desire, no desperate need or want, and after Harry's latest outburst, they were all taking care not to read into anything their adorable Submissive did. 

At least, not while pregnant...

Theo groaned, resisting the urge to bang his head against the tiled wall. The bond is still simmering with contentment, but he can't shake the feeling that he's read the situation wrong. In his mind's eye, he still sees Harry's shocked expression and the flicker of emerald fire as he tucked him in with a blanket. 

Maybe Harry had wanted him as much as he’d hoped.

_Arielle..._

* * *

Quinn’s mind is a whirlwind as he replays the interaction in the kitchen with Harry. Sure, Harry doesn’t always search him out for _that_ , but when he does, Quinn has always done his best to reciprocate, unless he honestly can’t.

But something was off about Harry and now, it’s off with Quinn, because he can’t place it and he _hates_ it.

“Da?” Teddy prompts, waiting expectantly.

_Behave, both of you,_ Quinn warns. He pats Shasta’s head and ruffles Teddy’s hair. He knows they will, but it never hurts to remind them.

For the most part, they are good kids and even their rebellious moments are muted—the product of their troublesome early years and the awful circumstances that brought them into Harry’s life and warmth.

He bundles them off to Jun and Cora, respectively. Teddy is always happy to poke through the Peverell's tech labs, while Shasta adores being spoiled by Jun's Pareyas. It's a good way to get the children out of the way for the weekend. 

Quinn sighs. There’s a different plan of action taking shape in his head and he’s very tempted to entertain it.

Especially since he's sure he didn't miss _that_ look on Harry's face, earlier in the kitchen. While it's equally rare for him to be in the mood—it's also the same for Harry to seek _him_ out. Their Bonds are still singing with contentment, so that's something. 

But that _look_ is too much for Quinn to ignore. It's riled his instincts and he’ll be damned if he ignores them. If it's important enough for him to take notice, it's probably quite serious. So he's taking charge first. 

With the children safely out of the way, it means the house will be free and that'll be good, if he's reading this right. Sealing all portals from incoming or outgoing, Quinn leaves the equivalent of a do not disturb message, in the wards. 

He rummages through the fridge to pull out the sweet treats he'd been working on earlier. If he mixes some of the natural powdered aphrodisiac with some flavored syrup, he can add a drizzle to the candies and give his Bonded a little boost. 

Something to help push them back towards the alignment they usually have. He has a slight inkling what could be causing this, but it’s still too early to tell.

If they're all getting the same calm read out, then instincts are likely scrambled on account of Harry's pregnancy. Quinn hums to himself. He’s fairly certain he'd smelled something different when Harry'd been there. 

Oh well. He'd know soon enough. For now, he'll check on the rest of the usual preparations. Lube, condoms, massage oils and Harry's favorite toys. 

A little help never hurts...

* * *

Charlie scoops out a glob of hair creme and works it through his damp hair with expert fingers. He can barely concentrate right now, because Harry caught him off guard and he'd hoped to be showered and dressed before they'd run into each other. 

Harry's complaints about his erratic work hours—and the equally messy state in which he returned—had only started up since the pregnancy. Quinn had suggested it was likely a hint that the baby was part his, but that was too good to believe just yet. 

Still, the soft contentment flickering through Harry's bond was enough to soothe his own irrational worry. As much as he wanted to be calm, this is all new to him. To all of them. Sure, a third child would be a blessing to their Circle. 

But this was the first real pregnancy he'd actually witness. A dragel pregnancy, complete with his beloved Harry and that lovely, round baby bump that made him want to snuggle the petite brunet away and never let the rest of the realms lay eyes on him. 

Charlie groans. He really is hopeless. The sight of Harry's wide-emerald eyes and those luscious, pouting lips are too hard to forget. He wishes he'd just spell-cleaned himself and banished the clothes, so he could indulge in the moment. He missed the extra time they used to have to themselves, before all of this started. 

Maybe Harry wouldn't have minded...

* * *

Ethan straightens up from stashing the last folded stack of laundry into the vanishing drawers of the large dresser in his room. The image of Harry's unhappy face is still rubbing him the wrong way and he can't figure out _why_. 

He did everything Harry wanted—dressing him, taking care of personal tasks and then settling him in for the night. A quick spell had shown that Harry had eaten a snack and been lightly scented by Theo, therefore, there is nothing to explain the unhappy scowl. 

Their bond had been thrumming with happiness that grew with each tender touch and act of care. As if the most romantic thing he'd ever done was brush Harry's teeth. 

Ethan groans. He perches on the edge of the bed, trying his best to think of Harry and why the mismatch bothers him so, when he recalls that Harry actually walked into his room in his underwear. 

Harry. _Their_ Harry. Who still blushes at Hadrian's dirty talk and practically self-combusts when Wikhn makes the kinds of suggestions that reminds him that Gheyos are far too _flexible_ when it comes to certain skills. The same Harry who purrs and chirps as he's being well-taken care of and enthusiastically returns the favor, as best as he can, even if a bit sloppily. 

No. Wait. 

When _was_ the last time they'd actually indulged him together? Ethan gnaws on his thumbnail, his mind clicking through memories in rapid succession. They've all been stupidly busy for the past few weeks, which is more than enough to cause short tempers, jumpy twitches and enough sexual frustration to drive a stadium _wild_. 

A dull thread of want simmers through his veins and Ethan lurches off the bed, stripping out of his pajama top. Maybe he's missed something, but if it's taken him this long and none of his other Bonded have discovered anything, then they all need to talk. 

And then he needs to find Harry...

* * *

George wakes to an oddly bereft feeling and he pokes Fred awake, unhappy at having to figure this out on his own. "Fred--Fred, wake up." He shakes him a little harder now, 

The more he thinks about it, the more he's sure he wasn't hallucinating Harry in that too-tight, too-bright, itty-bitty outfit of bootyshorts and a crop top. Not to mention those stupid socks...

They've begged him to wear that outfit before and Harry, their darling Harry, has never consented to the full ensemble. Sure, sometimes he'll wear the bootyshorts or the crop top, but never quite the whole thing. 

And it's no secret that they all love seeing those pretty silk socks on Harry's slender legs. Black, with a silvery dragon inked near the tops, it just gives Harry that _air_ that can’t be anything other absolute perfection.

"Fred!" George gives him another hard shake. 

Fred jerks upright with blurry eyes and a mumbled swear. "Whazzat?" 

"What was Harry wearing?" 

"Huh?" Fred stares at him, incredulous and barely awake at the same time. He can’t be mad at his twin though. He’s woken George out of a dead sleep too many times to count, just to listen to his odd ramblings. "Those shorts—the red ones." 

"And?" 

"Whaddya mean, and? He just wore the shorts and the-" 

George can tell the moment when his twin reaches the exact same conclusion as he did. "Do you think he was doing it on purpose?" 

Fred groans loudly as if he's about to fall off of the proverbial edge and into something he won't be able to crawl out of. "But he didn't feel like-!" 

"His instincts have been haywire for the entire start of his pregnancy," George says, wearily. "Why would this be any different? Maybe there was some kind of glitch?" 

"It's a magical bond," Fred says. "How could there be a glitch?" 

The twins sit miserably in silence for a moment, until there's a knock on the workshop door. It's Theo and he looks just as annoyed as they'd like to be. 

"Harry," he says, looking mildly irritated. "Come on." 

"H-he was here," George offers. But he's already sliding off of the stool and ready to follow his Alpha wherever they need to go. Fred is on his heels and following them a few seconds later. 

* * *

Hadrian is the first to arrive and he waits outside of their resting room, one foot braced against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. He looks tired and grumpy in the way that suggests he’s also figured out that something was off with Harry today. "Took you long enough," he grumbles to Theo.

“Stopped for the twins,” Theo explains, gesturing over one shoulder. He deviated from his original trek through the house, long enough to round up his stray Bonded. “Did you figure it out or did you feel something?”

“Both,” Hadrian says, wearily. “I’m not half the idiot that Wikhn would like me to be.” He sighs, raking a hand through his dark, devilish hair. Sometimes it would be easier to ignore all of the subtle dynamics in favor of his sanity—but these are his Bonded. He'll never do that, no matter how trying it may be.

"Maybe give me a heads' up next time?" Theo prompts, a faintly knowing gleam in his eyes. He's been busy and that's no excuse, but a little help is always welcome. Especially from his Bonded.He trusts them, as they trust him. "If you've figured it out and it seems like I haven’t?”

Hadrian blinks in surprise, because that's unexpected, especially considering Theo's Alpha rank. He's reminded all over again why this Circle makes his soul _sing_. A smile twitches at the corner of his mouth. "Gladly," he agrees. "I can sense the rest of you alright, a little more muted than my Suite, but you’re all there. How about you?“

"You all feel fine to me," George says. He looks to Fred.

"Muted," Fred admits. He doesn’t know if it’s because of what he’s been through or simply because George has always been more sensitive to his Pareyic instincts. "But not heavily? Just kind of like—searching through fog with headlights. You can see a little bit, but not everything."

Charlie hums. He can sense everyone fine. Sort of. He's never been able to sense their Suite properly, but he chalks it up to his Beta nature and their Gheyo traits. If he focuses, sometimes he can pick them out. He tries to zero in on Wikhn now and frowns.

Hadrian twitches, faintly as if following his line of thought. “Wikhn's also almost done at the Fae Courts, so he’ll probably be back tonight or first thing tomorrow.”

“Alec will probably follow,” Charlie muses. “They left together. I can’t imagine Wikhn returning without him.” He tugs on the ends of his ponytail. It's odd how right that feels and he's not sure if he's really the one puzzling things out. He also doesn't like that he's standing right outside of their resting room having such a serious conversation _without_ Harry.

"Probably," Theo agrees. But he doesn't confirm one way or another. Their Merrow is a lot of things and predictable is not one of them.

“I-I don’t like that I didn’t catch this,” Charlie admits, awkwardly. It feels strange and weird to say such a thing out loud, but he wants to be a good Beta for his Bonded. It pains him to think that he's been lacking in his rank and responsibilities.

He’s always done his best to be there for them, to listen and be available no matter what. The fact that he had their precious Harry right before his very eyes and somehow, missed the most obvious cues—well, it bothers him. A lot.

Fred huffs, his face turning pink. “It’s not like you did it on purpose, Char,” he says, softly. “We all did the same thing. It was more of a-“

“It was being afraid of upsetting him and then worrying about being afraid of something like that,” George says, quietly. There’s a rich crimson in his eyes, but he’s quite calm as he speaks. He moves up to stand beside Theo, curling an arm around his.

“We’re all to blame and it’s no one’s fault,” Theo says, feeling a bit lighter at the ridiculous admission. “We could’ve handled it better, but it is what it is.”

“Communication,” Charlie says, rubbing his neck again. They’d been busy with everything lately, but that’s no excuse. “We didn’t talk. Normally, we’d talk, but Harry’s been-“

“Prickly?” Hadrian supplies. He shrugs. “It’s fair. He’s doing all the work. He’s the one with the extra stress.” He doesn't add that the outburst with Harry and Draco scared all of them, himself included.

None of them want to see Harry that vicious again and it's making them nervous, which is no doubt feeding over into Harry. Hadrian sighs.

"He's in there crying his eyes out," Ethan mutters, unhappily. "We need to go in." He looks to Theo for guidance, because the first threads of guilt are wrapping around him and he doesn't want to overcompensate.

"Just a minute. He's fine," Theo soothes. Or at least, he will be for a few minutes, while the rest of them get their heads together. Harry always craves the security and stability that comes with their Circle and he wants to give that back to him.

That's what his instincts are clamoring for anyway.

"What happened to his empathy?" Theo peeks through the crack in the door, his expression growing pained. Ethan is right, they shouldn't stand out here talking.

_Pregnancy..._ Quinn supplies. _His realignmentperiod is distorted because of the pregnancy. He can't rest properly, so he can't settle. His magic isn't as synced up as he'd like it and because we want to be closer to him and can’t—it's an instinct feedback loop perfectly designed to create headaches._

Theo winces, because that's an eerily accurate description and he doesn't like it. He wasn't didn't think their Realignment Period would affect them so deeply, because the intervals have grown longer since their Circle's expansion. But it was foolish to think otherwise, really. He should know better by now.

So he sighs and makes a mental note for the future.

Quinn arms are full with treats and various items all wrapped up in a soft fluffy blanket from his own bed. There's a small serving tray in hand and he holds it out expectantly. There's over a dozen little tasty looking chocolate-covered candies with some kind of sugary powder on the top.

_Here—everyone eat one of these, please._

"What is it?" Fred eyes the chocolate-looking treat and pops it in his mouth, after seeing the rest of his Bonded follow through.It bursts on his tongue with an explosion of sweet, chocolatey goodness. He bites back an embarrassing purr, because it brings up all sorts of filthy, but delightful memories. He's had this taste before...

_Simple aphrodisiac and some vitamins. Chew it well before you swallow. One per person. The rest for Harry._ Quinn shifts his armful a bit to balance on his hip. He's taking in his current Bonded and checking them over visually, to be sure they are alright.

"An aphrodisiac?" Ethan bites his lip as the tray is passed his way. He plucks one sweet off of the corner of the tray and passes it to George. "Are you sure?"

_Instincts._ Quinn tries to explain. _And a little bit of hormonal manipulation. Fastest way to pull our bonds to the surface. We don't have to...act on it. You’ll be able to resist, if you want to. I didn't mix it that strong, but if we aren't feeling Harry, then he's definitely not feeling us either and this is one of the closer, base instincts to reconnect with._

It's a testament to how worried his Bonded are, when they don't question that detail at all, but rather, they all take one and pop it into their mouths, chewing in unison. There's three of them left on the tray and Quinn figures Harry might appreciate the treats. It reacts differently for his physiology.

"So it's really his Realignment Period?" Theo asks, hesitantly.

_Probably that plus his usual Empathic reactions and the pregnancy. I’d guess that right now, everything’s probably doubled and fed back to him. He might be reactive, so please keep that mind. He might lash out and to remember it later, so don’t take it personally._

Hadrian smiles. “We never do, but thanks for the warning.”

”Thanks," Theo echoes, gratefully. He can work with that. He catches the door first. "Give me a minute. Come in when I call." and he slips through the crack in the door and into the soft light of their well-padded resting room. "Harry-love?"

* * *

"...arry-love?"

Theo’s voice interrupts Harry’s near fit. It’s a shocking surprise and for a moment, he actually stops his angry growling. A quick whiff is proof that it is indeed Theo who has ventured into his protected space and for a moment, he isn’t sure what to do about it.

Harry doesn't want Theo right now. He's hot, tired and furious. He wants to sleep, he wants to be cuddled, he wants an endless round of sex in whatever way either of his Bonded would care to humor him for. He wants to cry, he wants to scream and maybe, he just wants them all right _there_ with him and not so far away out of reach. To just hold him so he doesn't feel so lonely and so _broken._

Logically, he knows that this isn't the way he usually is, but his mind doesn't want him to think rationally right now, it seems.

As much as he wants, he knows that's not going to happen. He's already tried to get their attention for the day and it didn't work at all. He would’ve gladly indulged, especially for the sake of the cuddles and kisses that follow afterward. Maybe he could’ve just asked for those on his own, but that’s hard.

Right now, he's tired and everything hurts.

Even his heart.

Everything feels horrible and out of sorts and he doesn't like it. The most recent drama of his last outburst replays in his head with the worst timing. Even with Severus and Theo so close at hand, he'd really gone after Draco.

And Draco had responded. Stupid Draco. Stupid kitchen. Stupid everything that isn’t what it should be.

Why had he done that anyway? That memory is still hazy and he isn't sure he wants it to clear up, if it it was upsetting enough for him to retaliate in physical form.

"Harry-love?" Theo murmurs again, appearing at Harry's side, his eyes soft gold and filled with all kinds of emotion that don't usually show through his usual guarded mask.

A rush of warmth and love washes over Harry. He can practically feel it radiating off of Theo and it soothes a hurt part of his sensitive soul. Maybe there's more to the reason why his Bonded weren't exactly—paying attention? He can listen, for a little bit.

It looks like Theo is here to talk after all. Not to touch. Even if he sort of still wants him to touch—just a little bit…

"Can I stay?" Theo asks, waiting.

There's a slight moment of consideration, before Harry nods.

"Thank you, my treasure."

Harry sighs inwardly, pleased to hear that endearment. If Theo is calling him a treasure, then maybe everything is alright, somehow.

"You surprised me earlier," Theo says. "I wasn't expecting it, but it was a very nice surprise."

Harry settles for pouting up at him because it's too hard to do anything else. He enjoys the flare of interest in Theo's pretty gold eyes and the faint scent that is all Theo, especially as it looks as if his Alpha really _is_ remembering earlier.

"Are your bonds closed?" Theo asks, gently.

A hot flush of red trails up Harry's neck and face. "No!" he snaps, wishing it came out as more of a roar. The good mood evaporates at once, replaced by an anxious, fretful irritation. He's upset now and he wants Theo to fix it, even if that isn't exactly a logical thing.

Theo settles down beside Harry, cross-legged and slips a hand under his pajama jacket, stroking calming fingers over the swell of Harry's baby bump. "I wondered, because you've seemed a little out of sorts, but your bonds kept tell me that you're fine. Only, I'm definitely sure that you're not, because you're here crying your eyes out."

"Am not!" Harry whispers, even as hot tears trickle down his cheeks. He can't help it. He isn't sure he wants to help it, but it's also making it hard to breathe. "I just--I-!"

"Shhh," Theo soothes. "Come here, let me hold you for a bit."

Harry snaps at Theo's fingers, his fangs chomping on empty air. He's decided that he's mad after all. Feeling sorry for himself sucks, so anger is a better option.

"Feeling bitey?" Theo inquires, a hint of amusement showing through. He gives a slight jerk of his head at the doorway, signalling their Bonded to come on through.

That only makes Harry angrier. "It's not funny!" He cries, struggling to sit up. Even though he wants his Bonded closer to him, he's not sure he can handle all the emotions that are slowly trickling into him. "It's not the least bit funny-!"

"Definitely not funny," Charlie agrees, shooting Theo a Look. He's thinking they all should've come into the room at once from the start.

"Not funny at all," Theo agrees, quickly schooling his features into a more appropriately solemn expression. "I just thought you were adorable, that's all."

"I'm not!" Harry huffs. "If I was, you wouldn't have wrapped me in a—in a _blanket_! How obvious do I have to be?" Tears prickle at the corners of his eyes.

Quinn sighs. He drops down on Harry's other side, in a near crouch and holds out one of the chocolate treats. _Chew well, then swallow._ He instructs.

Harry eyes it suspiciously. "What is it?"

_Re-calibrating Aphrodisiac._ Quinn ignores the wide-eyed look of shock. _Your Realignment Period is off—because you're pregnant, your bonds aren't reflecting your current state of emotion, probably as a side effect of that._

"W-what do you mean?"

_For Theo and the rest of us, I'm only sensing a complete, thorough state of calmness—which clearly, you are_ not. _There's a few extra things in here that should help us shift the connection back, but you need to eat these. I swear upon my Oath that they are safe and will do you no harm. You might feel a little giddy, but it should pass within a few minutes and leave a very deliberate calm behind._

Harry bristles, turning pink all over. He would've eaten it without Quinn having to mention his Healer's Oath and that irritates him that Quinn felt he had to mention it. He sits up, nearly biting Quinn's fingers when he scarfs down the sweet treats.

"I'm perfectly calm!" he sniffles again. "I'm just--you didn't want me!"

_Harry..._ Quinn's exasperation is mixed with fondness. _We've had this conversation before, hm? You have to ask for what you want, especially when you need it. We're not mind-readers._ He rolls his eyes at the irony of the situation requiring their mental conversation. _And even though we try, we might not get it right with just guessing. Not to mention there's this important little detail called consent._ He taps Harry's pert nose with one long-finger. _I'm guessing we're feeling feedback from the baby or the Circle's general feelings as a whole and so only half of what you wanted translated. Having these bonds is one way to verify that we're all on the same page, but that doesn't mean we don't have to work with them and grow with them._

Harry blinks. "I can do that?" his voice wobbles. "Project the baby's feedback?" This is a whole new thing he hadn't even considered. On one hand, he’s glad that the baby is apparently happy enough to let them know they’re happy, but he’s also sad.

Didn’t his Bonded pay attention to _him_? Or just the bonds?

But even as that thought slips in his mind, he realizes that he’s done the same. He didn’t try to read past their initial reactions either. What a fine Circle they are…but Quinn is still talking and Harry tries his best to listen.

_With a Circle as large as ours? Yes. It's largely because you're an Empath though. Sometimes signals can get screwed up or filtered out in the wrong way, so when that happens, you have to talk. Communication is important. We trust you to be honest about how you're feeling, and to ask us for whatever you want, so we can take care of you in the best way._

"...I know," Harry says. "It's just—I tried. I _tried_. I really needed some—well, earlier." His ears turn bright pink. "I was feeling really—achy. I just wanted one —of your close and then I thought you didn't want anything to do with me because I look like _this_ -"

"Stop right there," Ethan says, firmly. "You're absolutely beautiful, no matter what you look like. We don't see you the way you see yourself, Harry. We see your soul and your lovely heart. We see our Submissive carrying our child and we're awestruck at how lucky we are." He kisses Harry's forehead, settling into his own space around Harry.

"And we'll be happy to tell you just how lucky we feel right now," Hadrian adds. There's a soft warmth that curls around him now as he draws Harry's attention straight to him. "So lucky to have you. So glad you're ours."

Harry swallows. He can feel the truth and the weight behind those words and it's perfect. He sucks in a breath, trying to memorize this feeling. Right now, his bonds feel fine to him, he can't pinpoint any changes, but he _can_ take his Bonded's word.

There's hints of confusion, relief and _love_. So much love. Right there, waiting for him. It's everything he's ever wanted.

* * *

Fred can feel something buzzing through him as bonds are shifted and reconnected, a jolt of delirious happiness rushing right through him. It seems like Quinn's little treat is working and already, it's easing the headache that he hadn't quite focused on yet.

"Can we make a cocoon?" Fred asks, easing into place beside Harry.

Normally, this is something they'd do to soothe a distraught Submissive, but Harry's not quite panicked. Just worrying and for Fred, that's enough. He wants to do something for them—for all of them.

If he starts, Ethan and George will most certainly pitch in. It's not as if they need a reason to do this particular little ritual. There's plenty of blankets and pillows lined up in neat stacks against the padded walls of their resting room and they all have their respective favorites.

Harry perks up. It’d be so much better than his sad little pillow pile. He would like that a lot, actually. It always feels so safe to have his Pareya looking after him and something deep inside of him, shifts and twists a little more securely. His Bonded _love_ him. So much.

"Please?" he begs, emerald eyes shimmering. "Please make me one?"

"A nice comfy one," George promises. He looks to Ethan who is floating over the blankets and pillows that were stacked against the far wall. "Shirts please?" he requests, a beat later. "and pants too, if you want." Adding their clothes in strategic places underneath the blankets and pillows, will add their scents to the cocoon.

Ethan summons his pajama jacket to surrender to the cause. Hadrian strips out of his gym shirt with an apologetic look. In a matter of minutes, there's a small pile of donated clothes and a mostly round ring of pillows surrounding Harry.

Fred is the one to stack everything together in careful positions, while George tucks the borrowed clothes into gaps here and there. Ethan adds the blanket and when they are sure that everything's mostly right, Harry is allowed to move.

They've built the cocoon around him, but it isn't quite complete until they take up their respective positions. Forming a triangle of sorts around the nest, Fred rolls his neck to the side, hearing a soft crack. George yawns, his jaw popping. Ethan stretches his arms overhead.

For a moment, nothing happens.

"In," Ethan says, waving his Bonded forward to join Harry. They can't complete this part, until all of their Bonded are safely inside the designated space.

Theo eases into the pool of soft pillows and lightly scented blankets. He goes straight to Harry, arms open and is relieved when Harry reciprocates at once. The rest of their Bonded join in, crowding close enough to reach out and touch Harry.

He's pretty much smothered beneath their warmth. Skin on skin contact for a potentially reacting Empath.

Oh.

_Oh._

It's so nice.

Scales surface. Magic teases. Lights dim.

"Definitely feels like you," Harry mumbles. "All of you," he corrects, when Charlie grins.

Theo cards a hands through Harry's sweat-dampened hair. "Feeling better now?" he asks, scratching gently at the spot on Harry's head that always makes him purr.

Sure enough, Harry's eyes flutter half-closed in pleasure. The purr is there, but so soft.

And then they're all joining in on the petting and cuddling, until Harry is nothing more than a puddle of very content Submissive.

Happy that he is happy, they move and shift around him, checking and verifying that he's fine. That everything's alright and that he's as comfortable as he can possibly be. Charlie sits by Harry's feet and examines them, quickly, because Harry's been barefoot for most of the day and his ankles still have a few dull scales visible.

Quinn coaxes Harry's claws out to check that they're properly groomed. He trims off a few ragged tips with his own claws, testing with each careful shave, to be sure that Harry's comfortable. 

A wave of powerful warmth blasts through the resting room and there's a breathless pause, before his Pareyas react. In perfect sync, three pairs of wings flux outward, bleeding skin into scale and calling out slightly more dragonistic features in all of them.

The darker eyes, the sharper ridges and the tattoos that surface now to complete the perfect picture. All three wingspans stretch out, overlapping with each other to provide a sheltered space for their gathered Circle with no light overhead.

A perfect cocoon.

Filled with softness, his Bonded and their scents, Harry is in utter ecstasy. This is more than he ever could have expected. He wriggles around a little bit, snuggling into a pajama jacket and then curling one foot around someone's scaled side.

Harry barely notices when more of his Bonded trickle in from wherever they've been. He's just aware that occasionally the wings part and the hands holding him, shift a little bit. But that's more than fine. He just wants.

Wants all of this, however he can have it and whatever they're willing to give.

"Harry appreciation party?" Theo asks, gently. He's switching places with Hadrian now, so they'll all have a turn at cuddling their precious Submissive.

A tiny smile on Harry's face, gives way to a full, wide grin. He nods eagerly, because that's much better than just a stolen moment in a corner.

_Verbal answer..._ Quinn prompts. He squeezes a hefty drizzle of warmed massage oil into Charlie's hands. _Wings out, please?_

Harry smiles angelically up at him, a pleased purr building in his throat. "Yes, please," he whispers, even as his shoulders shudder with the effort to follow through. He chirps softly when strong hands lift him from his soft pillows and sets him in a warm lap.

It feels a lot like Theo. A good whiff of that tantalizing Alpha scent proves his guess right. Harry relaxes with a sigh that quickly turns into another quiet purr.

When Quinn's hands gently smooth over his skin, in tandem with Theo, Harry can't help but chirp in delight. He loves this even more than what he originally wanted.

The deliberate closeness, the gentle warmth, the strong scents and that rich, punch-drunk feeling of their soulbonds slowly reconnecting.

It's Hadrian that starts it first, a deep, pleased rumble in his throat. It's Fred that picks it up, a contented rumble building in his chest as George catches on and mirrors him at once. Within minutes, the calming vibrations are spreading through the room and each other.

An endless feedback loop of pure _love_.

Harry's soft smile surfaces and he melts into their tender care as easily as breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was there enough fluff? LOL. I've worked on this snippet wayyy too much this past week. Anyway, thanks for reading! 
> 
> Chapter 110 of TBDH is in progress, we're about 2k into it. ^_^


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